Zephyr
by Andimpink
Summary: Vivienne Clerisseau has heard of Erik Destler, the mysterious and wealthy man that has Paris talking. She will uncover the truth behind him as she is employed to care for his only son. The son he hasn't seen since his birth. Can she bring the broken family back together or will she be the whirlwind that tears it apart? (Erik X OC) AU-ish
1. Chapter 1

**_Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day._ **

**Chapter 1**

Erik Destler was a private man. He was also cold and cynical, as well as he was lonely and heartbroken. The latter two I was not aware of until I came to know the man. Monsieur Destler lived in a countryside home, far from the bustling city of Paris. He lived there alone, with no one but his staff for company. Or so people believed. The man was also in possession of a fortune. His name was praised among businesses, as he invested in many. Erik Destler was also a patron of the arts. He supported a number of art galleries, as well as the renowned Paris National Opera company. No one knew for sure the true story of the wealthy man of mystery. That did not stop them from speculating about the man or his past.

There were so many different stories about the man. Some were so absurd that you knew they couldn't be true, like the one about him being a vampire. Those people swore he was a creature of the night, stalking the innocent and drinking their blood. Others were plausible and could easily have been the truth, such as the tragic love story. Those who spoke about it said that he had once been married to a beautiful opera singer. The two had been madly in love upon first meeting and married a month after. They lived in wedded bliss for years until she mysteriously died. That is where the story branched. Some said she died when their original home burned to the ground. Others believed she died giving birth to their only son. Another version said she left their child with him and eloped with one of his business partners.

These stories I heard from those that frequented the boutique I worked at as a seamstress. They talked endlessly about anyone who was filthy rich, such as Erik Destler. Of course I heard about other men, but this mysterious man seemed to always steal the show. As I took measurements or as I assisted women into a dress, they'd speak with who ever came with them. If nobody came with them, then they'd simply divulge these tales to me. One after the other, a never ending story with different endings each time. All of them tragic or demeaning.

It made me sick and for the longest time, I dreaded the mere mention of the man Erik Destler. I could barely stand to work when those women would argue about who's version was right. Had I known that I would become part of his story, I would have ended my miserable existence then. If only to spare myself from finding out the truth. It would have been nice, though, to be able to tell all those women that I knew the real story. To shove it in their faces that they were all wrong, or even to say that one of them was right. The looks on their faces would have been worth it.

Our paths crossing was not expected and I did not even know it was him at first. We met one evening in the second week of January. It was late and I was heading home from a long day in the boutique. Ladies were already placing orders for the spring gala season and the store had been full. At times, the store had been overflowing. Madame Larousse, my employer, had even considered staying open an hour later. The rush of patrons ended, much to our surprise, and we closed at a normal hour. As I was leaving, Madame Larousse called out to me. _"Be here early in the morning, Vivienne. Or I'll dock your pay. Tomorrow will likely be as busy as today. Perhaps even more so."_

My feet ached and I planned to go straight to bed when I arrived home. Though, I was sure my mother would make me bathe and change into night clothes before doing so. Mother came from a wealthy family, but married into a poor one. The propriety and etiquette she learned was not forgotten and she passed it on to me and my younger sister. Julianna and I had to be the proper young ladies our mother expected us to be. We listened to her, of course, iff only to make our mother happy. Not that she wasn't happy already. My mother was always joyous and we wanted her to stay that way.

Julianna was younger than me by five years, at fifteen years of age. Her hair was the same as mine, blonde and straight as a line. She shared eye color with our father, a misty green, while I shared the color of our mother's, a deep blue. Our noses were different as well. Mine was small and straight, like our father's nose. Julianna's was slightly larger and rounded, resembling the nose of our mother's father. We shared high-cheekbones and long, curled eyelashes. Her jaw was angled, something for which I was jealous. My jaw curved and I swore it made me look plumper. I believed her to be prettier, out of the two of us despite looking so similar.

As I was walking and thinking about how cozy my bed would feel, I failed to pay attention to where I was going. The Paris streets were easy to navigate when you were paying attention. My tired and wandering mind had seemingly forgotten this until it was too late. When I looked around me after stopping under a lamp post, I found myself wondering where I had wandered. These buildings and such were unfamiliar to me. I could have gone back the way I came, but I feared I would only get myself more lost. Looking around, I tried to make sense of where I was. While doing so, I failed to notice the solitary figure approaching from my right.

Wringing my hands together worriedly, I studied my surroundings. I needed to identify something, anything that would point me in the right direction. It was cold and looked as if it were going to snow, not the ideal weather I wanted to be wandering in. As I turned to the right, I shrieked at the sight of the person that was just reaching me. The person was tall and wore a heavy black winter cloak and a wide-brimmed fedora. A thick scarf hung from their neck. They stopped at the sound of my terrified cry, glancing up from underneath the hat. A pair of mismatched eyes, one bright blue and the other laurel green, met mine. The rest of their face was unable to be seen, as it was cast into shadow by the fedora.

"I am so sorry if I startled you." I apologized. "You surprised me and I happen to have lost my way."

"All is forgiven." I was drawn back by the melodious male voice that emanated from the figure. It was beautiful, however brief his words had been. He tipped his hat and continued on by me. As he stepped out of the light of the lamp I stood beneath, I realized that he could probably help me find my way home.

"Monsieur, please wait!" I called out. The man stopped and turned back around, those mixed eyes peering at me once again. "Could you point me in the direction of Saint Hyacinth Street? Like I said before, I have lost my way." He did not answer for some time and I worried that he did not appreciate being asked for directions. I opened my mouth to tell him that I'd find it on my own, but he finally spoke.

"Come along, mademoiselle." He didn't even seem to be moving his mouth when he spoke. Did he even have a mouth at all? "I will walk by there on the way to my carriage. Besides, it is not safe for a young lady to be wandering around in the dark alone."

"Oh thank you, monsieur!" I felt so relieved that he was helping me. Who knew if I would have found my way back alone? Lifting my skirts, I walked out of the light and followed him when he started on his way. "You do not know how much I appreciate you doing this. If there is any way, I can thank you..."

"No thanks are needed." he interrupted sharply. Closing my mouth, I hoped I hadn't offended him by offering something in return for his help. I didn't see how I could have offended him by doing so. The man did not say anything more and I decided that I may make things worse by speaking again, so I remained silent. Best not to upset this kind gentleman a second time.

We had yet to arrive at any street I recognized when it started to snow. I groaned silently to myself, having known that this would happen. My cloak was not as thick as it had once been and did little to keep out the chill. It did not help that the snow falling was thick and melted against what warmth surrounded me. The further we walked in the snow, the more I started shivering. It wasn't until my teeth started chattering that the man stopped. He turned around and took one large step so that he stood in front of me. I looked up at him, hoping to see any other facial feature than his eyes. His scarf and the shadow cast from his hat still obscured them. An unfamiliar weight was placed on my shoulders and it took me a moment to realize he had placed his cloak around them.

"Th-th-thank-k-k you." I said through my chattering. He nodded and turned back around, continuing down the sidewalk. His cloak was warm and blocked out the cold. Pulling it tighter around me, I walked faster to keep up with him. With his cloak gone, I noted that he was wearing a very nice coat as well as dress pants. I hoped he didn't mind the cold or getting those nice clothes wet. I wondered what kind of occasion he had attended in those clothes.

Eventually, we came to my street and it was time to part. Removing the cloak from my shoulders, I handed it to him only to have him push it back towards me. "Keep it. You need it far more than me."

"Oh, I couldn't, monsieur." I argued, holding it out once more. "You've already helped me without asking for something in return. I am nearly home and there will be a fire waiting for me when I arrive there."

The man sighed audibly and seemed to be fighting with himself about arguing back. I stood there, holding his cloak and waiting for him to respond. When I pushed it closer to him, he spoke. "Mademoiselle, I will ask something of you if you promise to keep the cloak."

Mulling over his offer, I guessed it was better than nothing. "What do you want?"

"It is simple." he answered. "I wish to know your name."

"That is hardly anything!"

"Ah, but you asked what I wanted, mademoiselle, and that is what I want." The man was surely smirking behind his scarf. Why hadn't I expected him to ask for something so stupidly simple? I couldn't back out now.

"I am Vivienne Clerisseau." I swung his cloak, which I guess was mine now, around my shoulders. "Thank you for assisting me find my way and for the cloak."

The man took a sweeping bow and spoke as he did so. "You're quite welcome, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." He stood back up to his normal height, tipping his hat at me once more. "Good evening." With that, he strode off into the night. I watched as he disappeared down the sidewalk in a flurry of snow. Turning to head home, I realized that I had not caught his name.I knew I would not likely see him again, as this city is so large and you rarely see a stranger twice. Not to mention, I only met him because I got lost. Shrugging in defeat, I hurried home so I could pass out in my warm bed.

 **A/n: Hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Leave some love in the reviews!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: Second chapter! Woohoo! Thanks for the reviews and follows/favorites! It is so great to see people enjoying reading. You guys are amazing! Anywhoozles, onwards with the chapter.**

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 2**

"Vivienne, where were you last night?" My mother stood in front of the stove where breakfast was cooking, hands on her hips. I sat down at the table where we ate as a family together. Her long brunette hair was swept up on top of her head in a tight bun. Only a few strands had been missed and hung down past her rounded cheeks. Thin arched brows hung above her almond-shaped blue eyes. Her apron was spotted with flour and jam, but her dark blue dress remained clean. Julianna and I used to wonder how she could look so messy, but perfect at the same time. It was still a mystery to us and probably would be until we became mothers ourselves.

She expected me home by the time dinner was ready and last night I had arrived home after everyone had gone to bed. Leaning on the table, I sighed and prepared myself for the lecture in store. "You know that I want you home before it gets dark. There are men out there that would not hesitate to hurt you, darling. I cannot stop them if you are off walking the city streets and I have no clue where you are. Vivienne, do you know how your father and I would feel if something were to happen to you?"

"Mother, nothing happened. Madame Larousse kept me late. Her brother escorted me home safely." I contended, only lying about being escorted. Madame Larousse did not have a brother, but that gentleman had helped me home. It was only a half lie, but my mother would not know. "I am here now and that is what matters, right?"

"I still don't like it, Viv." She turned around and stirred the eggs cooking in the pan. "This is the last time I'll let it slide. If you think you're going to be working late, send a note so your father or I won't worry. Alright?"

"Yes, maman." Julianna joined us in the kitchen next, still in her nightgown and her hair in braids. She sat down next to me and yawned. I was still in my clothes from last night and my hair looked a mess. There would be time to change and prepare myself for the day after breakfast. "Good morning, Jules. Sleep well?"

"Like a rock. I'd ask about you, but it is obvious." My sister chuckled and I rolled my eyes. "How was Madame La-Grouchy yesterday?"

"Especially grouchy." I answered. Julianna thought Madame Larousse was one of the grumpiest women in the world. She was never completely satisfied with my work and frowned nearly all the time. Jules also wondered how she married when she was so unhappy. "Gala season shopping is getting done much sooner this year. I'd be surprised if when it starts, we only have a handful of orders for gowns."

"Good morning, my girls." Father walked in, a newspaper in his hand, and went to give my mother a kiss. After he did, he sat across from me and opened his paper to start reading. He was dressed for work already, but since I had to go to work early, I would not see him off this morning. My father worked as a chimney sweep, one of many. It did not pay well as other jobs did, but we had made it this far on his income. He was one of the best, always delivering excellent service. In return, those who hired him would usually pay extra. As he read the paper, he asked about my lateness last night. "Vivienne, you worried your mother and I last night. Where were you?"

"You were late, Viv?!" Julianna exclaimed as if it were the most scandalous action.

"I made it back home! Isn't that what matters?" I argued. "Madame Larousse kept me late because we were busy. I'll do my best to make sure it doesn't happen again."

"You must have gotten back pretty late, since you're still in your clothes." Shooting my sister a swift glare, I rose from my chair and went to get plates and utensils for our breakfast. Jules was quick to follow. I begrudgingly handed her the plates from the cabinet we kept them in. As I reached for the drawer with the silverware, she spoke again. "Are you sure you weren't accosted by a roguishly handsome man before you came home?"

"Of course not!" I fired back. "Stop being silly, Jules, and go set the plates."

"Both of you, knock it off." our mother scolded. My sister and I apologized before setting the table. Breakfast was spent in silence, except for the sound of our forks scraping against the plates. When I finished eating, I excused myself to go get ready for work. My mother made me wash my dishes before letting me go. Hopefully I would not be late because of it. I returned to my room and immediately brushed my hair then twisted it into a low loose bun. It would probably need to be redone halfway through the day, but I didn't care. Next I got out of my wrinkled dress from yesterday and grabbed a nice clean one from my armoire. It was similar, but dark pink instead of light blue. Lastly, I pulled on my plain brown boots, lacing them up my calf.

My cloak was sitting at the foot of my bed with the stranger's cloak. When I had first woken this morning, I believed last night to have been a dream until I saw the cloak. The black material was heavy and warm, much better than my flimsy thin cloak. Madame Larousse would surely ask how I had received such a piece of clothing. Even if I wanted to avoid her asking such questions, I'd take being warm for once over secrecy. Tossing the cloak around my shoulders, I left my room and headed for the door. Best to not have any more questions asked by my family. "Goodbye everyone! I'm off to work!" I called as I pulled the door open.

A rush of cold air hit my face and upon looking out the open door, I remembered it had snowed last night. _Great._ Trudging through snow was not on my list of 'Favorite Ways to Get to Work'. Shutting the door behind me, I descended the few steps to the sidewalk and set off in the direction of the boutique. I liked winter, except for the cold and having to walk through the snow. At least I had shoes, unlike some of the homeless Parisians. Even this cloak was a blessing that they would never get. My fingers rubbed the edge of the material, contemplating giving it away. I still had my flimsy one. It did not keep me as warm as this cloak, but there was someone out there that needed it more than me. If the man from last night had given me a hundred similar cloaks, I would not mind keeping one for myself.

Charity would have to wait, though. I made my way through the snowy streets until I arrived at Madame Larousse's. The building was made of lovely red bricks with two large display windows. Wood that had been painted green framed the crystal clear glass. Behind the windows were mannequins wearing elegant gowns of the latest fashion. Shoes were displayed on top of cute little boxes. It was a lovely looking store for anyone who happened to pass by. Those who frequented the shop knew that Madame Larousse was one of the best dressmakers in the city. I entered the store, hoping Madame Larousse was in the backroom so as not to be seen with this nice cloak.

Inside, racks of pre-made gowns were perfect to hide behind as I removed my cloak and folded it neatly. The room was already warm, Madame Larousse having long since started a fire in the back room. Once folded, I proceeded to the back room and put my cloak in my designated cabinet for belongings. As I shut the cabinet door and turned around, Madame Larousse came walking in from the front. "Good morning, madame." I greeted, curtsying. "How are you today?"

"I am well." The woman was easily in her late fifties. Her greying black hair was in a single tight braid that pulled the skin of her forehead taught. She looked at me past her hooked nose with those upturned brown eyes that found any flaw in my work. The cold gaze made me feel self-conscious so I fidgeted as she continued into the room. Today she wore a bright red shade of lipstick that was far too bright for her pale complexion. It also did not help that her lips were pouting angrily. The only person that got to see this was myself, of course. She put on a bright smile whenever customers were present so as not to give them a reason to dislike her services. Picking up a stack of orders, she handed them to me. "You may start working on these. Marine and Elisa are already in working."

"Yes, madame." I curtsied again and walked away towards the work room. Pushing the curtain hanging in the door way to the side, I entered the room. Marine and Elisa, two of the other seamstresses, smiled at me as I entered. They were a little younger than me, Elisa being 18 and Marine 17. "Good morning, girls."

"Morning, Vivienne." Elisa said before starting her sewing machine up again.

"It wasn't too terrible of a walk here, was it?" Marine asked. "I discovered just as I started walking that there is a hole in my boot. My foot was wet and cold the entire way here. It is only now starting to warm up."

"It was not too bad. I am sorry your journey here was not pleasant." Setting my stack of orders down at one of the workstations, I picked up the first one and grimaced. _Chiffon. I hate working with chiffon._ Today was going to be a long day if every order was this annoying. Taking the order with me, I walked over to the fabric storage area and began the day with chiffon.

I managed to get five dresses finished today. Madame Larousse was barely impressed by this and added another chunk to my work load. As if I didn't already have a lot to do. Marine and Elisa were also in the same boat. Monday would be another early starter. At least the weekend gave us a break between now and then. By the time we had closed up, it was late. The sun was barely shining on the horizon and I knew I'd better get home before it set. Giving Marine and Elisa a wave goodbye, I set off in the direction of my house. When I knew the two girls I worked with were out of sight, I unfolded my cloak and put it around my shoulders. Maybe I would keep it for a few days, just to appreciate its quality before giving it away. Who knows, maybe I would see the stranger again and he'd ask me about the cloak. I doubted I would ever see him again, but if I did, I would be sure to catch his name.

 **A/n: Who wants more of the stranger-that-is-obviously-Erik? I know I do, but in due time my dear readers. Until next time, my lovelies. Review! Review! Review!**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 3**

The next morning after breakfast, Jules and I left the house. It was Saturday, the day we volunteered at the orphanage down the road from us. Volunteering was something my mother had encouraged us to do. As soon as I turned fifteen, I would make my way down the road to the orphanage. I'd help care for the children and read or play with them every Saturday. It quickly became something that I looked forward to. The children adored me as much as I adored them. Lord knows they needed all the affection they could get. The children's ages ranged from infants to 13 years of age. Some had been abandoned on the doorsteps, while others had lost their parents and had nowhere else to go. It was saddening and if I could have, I would have adopted them all.

Jules decided to join me at the orphanage when she turned fifteen last year. Since then, we've been spending our Saturdays together while caring for the orphans. Today was the second Saturday of the month, which meant there would be an excursion to a local toy store. The children that were old enough and well behaved would get to go pick out a new toy for themselves. The owner of the store was a kindhearted old man and didn't charge anything for this monthly act of charity. I always made sure each of the children thanked him before leaving the store. It brought a smile to the gentleman's face and to my own.

As we approached the orphanage, I started to shiver. Since I could not avoid walking with my sister, I forwent the warmth of the stranger's cloak. I loved Julianna to death, but seeing the cloak would confirm her theory. Her theory about there being a handsome man involved in my tardiness the other evening. I had not seen the stranger's face, but I could only imagine that he was attractive. His voice sure was, so why wouldn't his looks match? It did not matter anyways. There was no doubt in my mind that the stranger was married. He was a perfect gentleman, something any woman would wish for in a husband.

Putting the stranger out of my mind, we entered the orphanage. The head of the orphanage greeted us as we walked in, telling us that the children had been ecstatic all week. They looked forward to picking out a new toy or some sweets. I remember the occasional treat my mother would allow us when she took Jules and I shopping. It was as rare of an occasion as the one these children got. They were likely more excited about it because it was an expected delight.

Jules was catching up with Luc, the man who greeted us, when I decided to go and see the children in the play room. The caretakers I passed in the hall smiled at me or said a quick hello. They got a little bit of a break thanks to Jules and myself, something for which they were grateful. I ended up at the door to the play room and headed on in. The children were sitting around the room, playing with toys or reading books. Though, upon my entrance, they dropped whatever they were doing to come surround me.

"Vivienne!"

"Bonjour, Vivienne!"

"Vivi, I am so happy to see you!"

A chorus of greetings came from the children, so many that I couldn't keep up with who was saying what. One child would grab one of my hands, telling me to come play with them, while another did the same on the other side. Some would wish to be picked up, which was impossible when I was being pulled two different ways. Then I'd feel the arms of a few of the children wrap around my legs, hugging me and saying they missed me. For anyone else, it would seem I was being attacked by these small beings. If they'd only look at the smile on my face, they'd know I felt just the opposite.

"Children, children! One at a time please." I said. "Line up" They listened right away, stepping away from me and lining up. There were fifteen of them, all between the ages of 5 and 13. I waited until they all stood still in their line before going to greet each one of them individually. They said the sweetest things, things you could only hear from children. I heard just about anything from them. The children told me about the possibility of them getting adopted or what they had learned that week. Some of them simply said that they missed Jules and me or that they wanted me to play with them sometime today. It was all touching and by the time Jules joined me, we were all ready to go to the toy store.

The children formed two lines and Jules and I were at the front of each. They were bundled up in coats, hats, and gloves that had been donated. Making sure we had everyone, we left for the toy store. Every so often, I'd glance behind me to make sure we hadn't lost anyone. The younger children were closer to the front so that the older ones could keep them from wandering off. This excursion was also a good opportunity for the children to be seen. It gave them a better chance to be adopted. Over the past five years, there had been so many people that approached me and asked about the children. Every time I heard one had been adopted, I could only hope that it had been because they were seen out in the city.

"It sure is cold today." Julianna said as we stopped at a busy street to wait for it to be safe to cross. She looked up at me, her own teeth chattering. "Why didn't you wear the other cloak?"

"What cloak?" I stammered. How did she know about it? She couldn't have seen me in it.

"I remember you had borrowed a pair of my gloves, so I went to look for them in your room. When I got them off your desk, I turned around and noticed it under the one you're wearing." she explained. "Where did you get it? I thought you were saving your money."

"Miss Vivi..."

"Madame Larousse's brother gave it to me because I was cold." I lied. "When I tried to give it back, he insisted I keep it."

"Miss Vivi, Marie is going..."

"I don't recall Madame Larousse having a brother. You're lying, Viv. Who gave you that cloak?"

I felt a tug on my dress and looked down at little Antoine, a 7-year-old. "Yes, Antoine?"

"Marie is in the middle of the road." he said, pointing to where Marie stood. She was following a stray cat and was not paying attention.

"Good heavens! Marie! Marie!" How did I not notice? Lifting my skirts, I ran to the edge of the sidewalk. I was about to walk out when a carriage turned in front of me and I lost sight of little Marie, who was only 6. When it passed, she was almost to the other side. I started to cross, worry the only thing on my mind. I couldn't care less about my sister's knowledge of the stranger's cloak. The cat suddenly took off and Marie decided not to follow, turning to face me.

"Miss Vivi!" Marie exclaimed.

"Marie, wait there!" She did not listen and started back my way, just as a carriage turned, going way faster than it should have been. I cried out in fear when the carriage blocked my view of her. When it passed, I feared the worst. A sigh of relief escaped my lips when I saw Marie safe in a man's arms. The man was not a Parisian, his skin far too dark to be. He wore nice clothing with a heavy red and white scarf. When it was safe to do so, he carried her across to me. "Thank you, monsieur."

"You're welcome." he said, his accent unmistakably eastern. Marie started struggling in his arms, wanting to be let down. When I reached out to take her from him, he shook his head. "Let us get to the sidewalk first."

As soon as we reached the sidewalk, Marie was set down and I grabbed her by the arms to make her face me. "Marie, do not ever wander off without Miss Jules or myself." I reprimanded. "Something bad could have happened to you." Marie sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. She had been frightened by it as much as I had and I pulled her into my arms. "Promise me to never do that again. Promise"

"I promise, Miss Vivi." she wailed, hugging me back. I stroked her hair, as my mother would do when I got upset. There was something so comforting in that contact and I had picked up using it whenever the chance arose. When I let her go, I ushered her towards Jules who took her hand.

The man who had rescued her was still standing there, a smile on his face. "Thank you so much, monsieur. If you had not grabbed her, that carriage surely would have hit her."

"All is well now, madame." he replied. "Just keep a better eye on your little one."

"Oh, she isn't mine." My cheeks warmed with embarrassment. It wasn't often someone believed all these children to be my own. The gentleman was not from around here and probably did not understand. "These children are all orphans. I am only here to take care of them."

"Oh. I see." he said, embarrassed himself. "I apologize, mademoiselle, if I disrespected you by suggesting..."

I laughed. "No harm done, monsieur. It is not often that I get mistaken for a mother of fifteen. We must be going. Good day." Walking back over to the front of my line, I took Marie's hand from my sister so I could watch her. We crossed the street and before I knew it, the foreign gentleman had caught up to us.

"Mademoiselle, may I join you? I do not know where you are going, but I would not mind helping watch these little ones." Jules looked at me inquisitively, probably wondering why he wanted to help. I shrugged my shoulders, not quite knowing myself. The man was kind enough to save a child and I suppose it would not hurt to have another set of hands to help. "If it is against your laws, I'd completely understand."

"Oh no! It is not at all. Please join us." I insisted. "We're just taking them to a toy store. If you want to leave, feel free to do so. I can't imagine taking up any more of your time than is comfortable with you."

"I have the entire day, if need be." We continued to the toy store along with Marie's rescuer. When we arrived at the store, the children went their own ways while we three adults waited at the counter. The owner was off in his work room with a few children that wanted to see what new things he was working on. "My name is Nadir Khan, mademoiselles. I should have introduced myself sooner."

"I am Vivienne Clerisseau and this is my sister Julianna." She curtsied, as our mother had taught us so well. "Introductions are not as important as people make them out to be." My mother would have strangled me if she heard blasphemy like that pass through my lips. "It was also an intense situation. I really can't thank you enough for saving Marie."

"Miss Jules, come here!" a child called from behind one of the shelves.

"Duty calls." Julianna said as she went to see what the matter was.

"There is one thing, mademoiselle." Monsieur Khan said. I did not understand what this thing was, but I knew he'd explain. "You see, a close friend of mine has a child. He does not have the time to care for the child and the last three nannies have... failed to meet my friend's requirements."

"Where is the child's mother? Can't she take care of him?" I questioned.

"His mother died giving birth to the child."

"Oh! I apologize. I did not know..." I stammered, feeling embarrassed for assuming the child had a mother.

"It is quite alright. My friend has entrusted me with finding a new nanny. It has not been a fruitful search." The man rubbed his neck, glancing over at Marie who was hugging a dolly she had found. I understood now where he was taking this. "You seem to have a way with children and I'd like to ask if you'd take the position. Of course, if you do not, I'd understand."

"Monsieur Khan, I... I don't know what to say." And I honestly did not. While I enjoyed volunteering to help these children, I wished that I could do it all the time. If there was an opening for a caretaker at the orphanage, I would have taken it in a heartbeat. None had opened up though, so I was at a loss. Working for Madame Larousse was not entirely pleasant and the pay could be better. In all the three years I had worked for her, I had not received a raise. Perhaps a change is what I needed. "Could I think about it, then get back to you?"

"Of course. You may take as much time as you need." Monsieur Khan reached into his pocket and retrieved a small card. "You may reach me at this address, by writing or dropping by. If I am not there, my man servant can take a message. I can also answer any questions you have when I hear from you." Nadir glanced at his watch and sighed. "I am afraid this is where I will have to leave you, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. I hope you consider my offer. Good day."

"Leaving already, Monsieur Khan?" Julianna asked as she passed by him to stand next to me.

"As you say, 'duty calls', mademoiselle." Jules giggled. Nodding his head at the two of us, he left the store. I flipped the card with Nadir's address over in my hand, contemplating taking the job I was offered. Jules noticed my fidgeting and asked about what had transpired. "What were you two talking about?"

"He offered me a job as a nanny." I replied. "Though, I am not sure if I want it."

"Vivienne, are you kidding me?!" Jules exclaimed. "You should have told him you'd take it right away. Isn't it what you want to do, anyways?"

"At the orphanage, yes." I had never thought about becoming a child caretaker for just one child. "But it'd be for a single child. I don't know if I want to work one-on-one."

"Viv, one on one would be easier than what we're doing now." Jules argued. "Not to mention, you'd get to leave Madame La-Grouchy's once and for all. She works you and everyone else harder than she does herself. I think you should take it. It would be a great opportunity."

"You really think so?"

"Even better: I know so." Julianna said, squeezing one of my hands. "You are a natural at taking care of children, Viv. If I had half the skills you have, I'd be the nanny of the year. Please take it, Vivienne. If not for yourself, do it for me. You'd be great."

"I'll think about it."

"Good." she said. "Now, about that cloak..." _Here we go... Way to think she'd forget about that..._

 **A/n: Ah… Nadir. Perhaps one of my favorite characters to write. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: Thanks for all the reviews and favorites/follows. You readers are amazing! Here is another chapter for you all!**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 4**

I decided I would tell Julianna about the cloak and the man who gave it to me. While she wanted to hear about it right then and there, I made her wait until we were done volunteering. Jules pouted for the rest of the time we volunteered, but did not bring it up again. It was quite a sight, seeing her frowning at me every chance she got. No one noticed except for me and I thought about making her wait longer, if only to tease her. When we said goodbye to the children, Luc came to thank us and walked us to the door. The man told us that he'd see us next week and then left us. Jules pulled me out the door and I knew that I'd better tell her now.

So I did. As we made our way home, I told her how I had managed to get lost. She listened as I explained how the stranger had scared me half to death. "He came out of nowhere, bundled up and prepared for the weather, unlike myself. "

"Was he handsome?" Jules questioned.

"I don't know." I replied. "Not that it matters."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Jules slowed down, making me stop to wait for her. "How could you not know?"

"I did not know! His face was obscured by his hat and scarf." Julianna nodded, now knowing why I did not know. "His voice was alluring though. It was beautiful."

"You're the only girl I know that would think a man's voice beautiful." Jules laughed as we started walking again. I rolled my eyes and picked up where I had left off. I told her that he said he'd walk me to our street, as he was going to pass there.

"The stranger did not want anything in return for helping me. He seemed annoyed by me talking, so I was quiet up until my teeth started to chatter."

"So that is when he gave you his cloak?" Jules asked excitedly.

"Yes. That is when he gave me the cloak." She smiled and allowed me to finish. "When we got to our street, I went to give him his cloak back, but he insisted I keep it. I did not want to keep it without giving something in return, so I asked him if there was anything he wanted in return."

"Did he want a kiss?"

"No." Julianna giggled and I rolled my eyes at her guess. "All he asked for was my name. I was not thinking and did not ask for his before he left."

"That's a shame." Jules shook her head. "Mother would be furious to know that a man did not introduce himself to a lady."

Stopping, I took my sister's hand and made her face me. "You can't tell mother about it, Julianna. She'll think that what he did was improper and then be upset because I allowed it. Promise me you won't say a word, Julianna."

"Your secret is safe with me, Viv." she assured, hugging me. "I promise. We're sisters after all. You don't have anyone to tell your secrets to but me." I sighed with relief and hugged Julianna back. She was not only my sister, but my dearest friend. We'd always been there for one another and I was sure we'd continue to be for the rest of our lives. When Jules let me go, I hooked elbows with her and we headed home with no further interruptions.

The rest of the way, I thought about the job Monsieur Khan had offered me. It was definitely something I could see myself doing and enjoying. There weren't any jobs I knew could offer the same. Madame Larousse's had been my job for the last three years, yet I did not enjoy the work or want to be a seamstress. _This could be your ticket to a better life, Vivienne. Don't you want to do something with your life?_ Of course I did, but whether this was my chance or not I did not know. For all I knew, I could be walking myself into having to care for an impossible child.

Now that I thought about it, Nadir really did not give me much information on the child. The only things he said were that the father was too busy and that the mother was deceased. I wondered why he gave me details that really did not help me with deciding whether I wanted the job or not. He did give me his address, though, and told me that I could ask questions. I knew that I wanted to have more information before I made my decision. It was not wise to go into something blindly. My mother would have said something similar, I was sure of it. Which is why I decided to go and get answers from Monsieur Khan the next day.

…

"Vivienne Madeleine Clerisseau, where do you think you're going?" Freezing in my steps, I turned to look back at my mother sheepishly. She always seemed to catch me when I was trying to sneak away. We had arrived home from going to church and I was planning to slip away while she started to get dinner prepared. The meal she had planned must not have taken as much prep work this time. "Well?"

"I am going to look into a job offer." My mother seemed unconvinced by my answer and I sighed, knowing I'd have to explain further. "A gentleman offered me a job as a nanny for his friend's child. He didn't speak much about the child, so I decided that I would go ask some questions before I made my decision."

"A man, Vivienne?" _Here we go..._ "You know it is improper to call on a gentleman without an escort. The fact you were sneaking out also doesn't sit well with me. Does this have something to do with your being late two nights ago?"

"Of course not, mother." Monsieur Khan could not have been the stranger I met that night. He would have recognized me and I would have remembered his voice. "Julianna was there with me, not to mention that this man saved one of the children that had wandered off. Please, let me go. You know how much I've wanted to care for children and this could be my start."

"Vivienne," Mother sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I do not feel comfortable letting you go by yourself."

"I am not a child anymore. The world isn't out to get me either, maman." I pointed out, hoping that she'd understand. "I want to spread my wings and fly, but I can't do that when I'm tied down here or to the boutique. You don't expect me to stay here forever, do you?"

"Heavens, no." she responded. I watched in silence as she struggled to find what to say next. Eventually, she came up with something and spoke. "Are you sure this is what you want, Viv?"

"I won't know until I have some questions answered by this gentleman." I would not have them answered if she kept me here. "You've always told Jules and I to chase our dreams once we found them. Please don't make me lose this one."

"I suppose I'll have to let you go." I jumped excitedly and then embraced my mother in a tight hug. She laughed and hugged me back. "But you have to be back before it gets dark, I do not care whether you're finished or not. If I am to allow this one impropriety, you have to be on time getting home."

"Of course, maman." She let me go and cupped my cheek before kissing it and leaving for the kitchen. Jules peered out of her room and ran over to me, handing me the cloak. I was going to have her hand it to me through the window just in case mother caught me before I left, and she had. I was surprised she was letting me go, but I would have to remember that I couldn't be late. "Thank you, Julianna."

"I really hope this is your chance, Viv." she said as I put the cloak on. I opened the door and waved to her, then headed out.

The walk to Monsieur Khan's home did not take as much time as I had anticipated. His home was on the rue de Rivoli, which was only two blocks from my street. He lived in a nice flat across from the Tuileries. When I came to stand at his door, I lifted my hand to knock only to pause. There was shouting coming from within the apartment. The voice was unrecognizable until it got closer to the door and I knew exactly who it was. I watched as the door was thrown open and the stranger from the other evening stood there.

"Erik! Erik, I did not mean to..." Nadir trailed off as he came out of a room and spotted me. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau, I was not expecting you this soon." That is when the stranger turned his head and noticed me standing there. Unlike that night, his face was not obscured by the darkness nor his attire. This time, it was hidden behind a black mask that covered the top half of his face. His mismatched eyes peered at me with disbelief from behind the mask. Without the hat, I could see the ebony hair that had been neatly tied back at the nape of his neck. The skin not covered by his face was pale and his lips formed a frown.

Monsieur Khan came to stand next to the stranger. "Erik, this was the young lady I was telling you about."

"I see you're making good use of that cloak, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." the stranger that Nadir called 'Erik' stated.

"Wait. You two know each other?" Neither of us cared to answer Monsieur Khan, simply allowing him to take our silence as a confirmation. "This is excellent! You'll have to tell me how the two of you met. Would you care for some tea, Mademoiselle Clerisseau."

"Oh, yes please." I answered.

"I'll go have Darius prepare some. Erik, why don't you show her to the drawing room?" Before he could even respond, Monsieur Khan left the room in such a hurry that it seemed to me he was fleeing from the two of us.

"Follow me, mademoiselle." Erik said as he walked by without even glancing at me. I followed and suddenly realized Monsieur Khan's suggestion to his visitor. Erik, the stranger from two nights ago, was the father of the child and would be my employer if I decided to take the job. I felt nervous all of a sudden, a lump rising in my throat. What if he did not like me for some reason? He could use my mistake of getting lost as a reason to not hire me. Even if Monsieur Khan vouched for me, when it came down to it, Erik would have the last say. "Ahem." Looking up from the ground, I noticed I had stopped at the entry to the small sitting room. He stood in front of the fireplace, his expression unreadable from behind his mask. "Are you not going to take a seat?"

"Yes. Of course." A blush tinted my cheeks and quickly made my way into the room. _Why do I let my mind wander?_ Feeling very embarassed, I sat down on the dark colored chaise in front of the lit fireplace, folding my hands in my lap. Erik sat in an adjacent high-backed chair. His height made the chair look as if it were made for him specifically. The two of us sat there, with the only other sound being the crackling of the fire.

I normally found comfort in the quietness of a room, but this was unbearable. Before I knew what I was doing, I was talking. "Erik? That's your name?"

"Uh... Yes." he replied. "Does that surprise you?"

"No. I just did not have anything to call you except for 'the stranger' until now." I said, not looking up at him. "I believed that would be the only thing I would ever call you, to be honest."

Monsieur Khan entered the room, drawing mine and Erik's attention. "Darius will bring the tea when it is ready." He sat down next to me, angling himself so that he faced Erik and I. "So, how did you meet the elusive Erik Destler, Mademoiselle Clerisseau?"

"Nadir, I doubt she knows who I am." Erik began, but I interrupted before he could continue.

"I have heard of you." Both men looked at me with shock on their faces. Little did they know that I was as shocked as they were. I had heard far too much about Erik Destler. The temptation to just get up and leave was strong. I did not want to get tangled up in his shadowed story. Though, I knew this opportunity was not one that was easily attained. I was not going to throw it away over one of the biggest annoyances at my job. Taking a deep breath, I changed the subject. "Shall we talk about the job? I don't have a lot of time to spend here."

"Of course, mademoiselle." Erik answered, standing up. "Nadir will answer any questions you have. I will take my leave."

As he started to walk away, Nadir called out to him. "Erik, you can stay. Don't you want to..." The door slammed shut behind him and Nadir did not follow. "I apologize, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. He is... well, you saw."

"Difficult?" I offered up.

"Yes. Difficult." He sat back down. "So, where do you want to start?"

"Erik."

"Ah. That is always the first question." Nadir sighed. "I hope you have more time than you let on. This will probably take some time." And so, that is how I got my first glimpse into the life of Erik Destler's mysterious life.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/n: Read and review!**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 5**

"First of all, Mademoiselle Clerisseau, I must ask that you do not speak of this to anyone. It is strictly confidential." Monsieur Khan leaned forward, his face becoming more serious than I had seen before. "Monsieur Destler is a private man and he has asked for it to remain that way. Utter a word of what I am about to tell you, there is no knowing what the consequences may be. Others have been in your place and failed to respect his wishes. You are a respectable young lady and I would hate to see your reputation ruined for not obeying this simple request."

"I will not tell anyone." I responded. Even if I wanted to, I am sure no one would believe me. The ladies that brought up the ridiculous stories would scoff and think me a liar. If they did believe me, whatever Nadir was about to tell me would be just another version of his story for them to twist.

"Very well then. Let us start with the obvious." Monsieur Khan began. "As you must have noticed, Monsieur Destler wears a mask. He was caught in a terrible barn fire when he was a boy. His face suffered the worst burns the family doctor had ever seen."

"That is awful." I commented. No rumor that I had heard about Erik Destler could compare to the horror of this one. How a child could go through something so terrible and survive was beyond me.

"It was terrible, but I am afraid it doesn't get much better. During the many months of healing, infection became a serious issue. He nearly died twice. When the worst of it was over, his skin started to heal but never healed completely. The face his parents had been so proud of creating had been rendered unrecognizable by the burns. His face was so horribly deformed that his own mother refused to kiss him. His mask was given to him, to not only protect the weakened skin, but to hide it from his family's sight. He has worn the mask since then and still has not healed from the scars, both physical and emotional."

"His mask must have attracted a lot of curiosity as to what was behind it."Nadir nodded solemnly.

"It is why he is so keen on staying out of the eyes of society." This was... I could not even begin to describe what I felt. It was a mix of sorrow, anger, disbelief, and shock. How could a parent not love their child just because he was deformed? Not to mention that he had become so in a way that was sure to stir more fear than a child could bear. They were so selfish that they couldn't look past his lack of beauty and love him as a parent should.

"Ah, Darius, please come in." Nadir said, stirring me from my thoughts. A man with slightly darker skin than Monsieur Khan was carrying a tray over. He was dressed in work clothes and had not a single hair on his head. I had never seen a man without hair, but it suited Nadir's servant well. When he reached Nadir and I, he set the tray down on the low table in front of us, speaking in a language I did not understand. Nadir responded in the same tongue, which I assumed was their native language. When Nadir finished speaking, Darius bowed and left the room. "How do you like your tea?"

"Honey, please." I watched as Nadir poured the tea and put a dollop of honey into it, stirring it before handing it to me. It smelled heavenly and I took a sip. The tea was by far the best I had ever tasted and I would be sure to ask Monsieur Khan what kind it was before I left today. Setting the cup on the saucer sitting on the table in front of me, I thanked Monsieur Khan.

He took a sip of his own tea before continuing. "There have only been a handful of people who have seen Erik's true face, myself included. I am one of the only two to have accepted it."

"Who is the other?" I questioned.

"His late wife, Christine. She was the only woman to have ever look upon his face without fear. That woman was the best and worst thing to have happened to him. They loved each other deeper than I had ever seen two people love. It is why it was so hard for him when she died." I wondered how she died, but Nadir seemed to know what my next question was, giving me the answer. "She died giving birth to their son."

Of all the rumors that proved to be true, it had to be the most tragic one. I felt my heart ache in my chest and resisted the urge to cry. "So..." I started, but couldn't seem to find the words to say what I felt. Monsieur Khan must have seen this struggle in my expression and placed a hand on my arm. He gave me an appreciative smile, knowing that I was trying to express the sorrow I felt. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I decided to change the subject. "What is the child like?"

"Gustave is very much like his father." Nadir answered, removing the hand from my arm. "He shares his father's intelligence and creativity. The tutor Erik hired to teach him says he is at least two years ahead of where a ten-year-old should be. Gustave loves painting and sculpting clay. He makes such beautiful creations that I find myself surprised when he acts so terribly."

"Terribly?"

"The boy is like his father, as I said, and they share a short and explosive temper." Nadir explained. "He throws these horrible fits when something does not go his way. It has been getting progressively worse and none of the caretakers have been able to stop him."

"Why not?" I asked, thinking it absurd that a caretaker could not calm the child.

"Because he asks to see his father."

"What?" Nadir's answer confused me. "Why does he ask to see his father?"

"Because Erik hasn't cared to see him since his birth."

 **...**

I left Monsieur Khan's house well before the time I was planning on leaving. He asked that I honestly consider taking the job, as I seemed like someone who would do well. After leaving, I decided to take a walk along the Seine. It would kill some time before having to go home and lie about everything I had just learned. It would also give me some time to think about what to say and whether I would take the job or not.

When Nadir told me that Monsieur Destler had not seen his son for ten years, I could not believe it. Upon asking why he did not see his son, Nadir said he did not know entirely himself. He speculated that his friend blamed the child for his wife's death or that the child reminded him too much of his lost love. It could have been a number of things, but whenever asked about it, Monsieur Destler refused to answer. Nadir had tried for years to get Erik to see his son, something that he asked for more than anything else. I was told he had yet to succeed.

At first, his father's refusals to see him caused Gustave to cry and wonder why he did not want to see him. As he got older, though, Gustave began getting angry and would throw hour-long tempers. The boy would break his toys and scream at any person that was in the room with him. These tempers would last until Gustave tired himself out or he realized that he was not going to get his way. According to Nadir, a few of the caretakers had quit due to this repeating bad behavior.

The boy's behavior worried me. I had not dealt with children as bad tempered as Gustave Destler before. His temper could be helped, but only if his father would see him. That was not a possibility though and it would make the job much more difficult. Was I willing to take a challenge and attempt not to fail in it? What would Monsieur Khan or Monsieur Destler think if I could not control the boy? These questions weighed heavily on my mind as I walked, but I would not know the answers unless I faced the challenge head on and acceptd the job.

When it started to lightly snow, I paused and looked out across the river. The Seine was beautiful this time of year, at least that is what I thought. Julianna always disagreed with me on that. She loved the river in springtime and I had never been able to convince her otherwise. We once argued over this issue and she almost punched me square in the face. She felt so bad about the almost-punch that she cried and apologized all the way home. I laughed softly, recalling the walk home that day.

 _"I am sorry, Vivi. Please don't tell maman!" Julianna sobbed. She was thirteen at the time and still had some pudge in her cheeks. Fat tears rolled down to fall to the ground from her chin. The people we passed didn't seem to notice and continued on by without a word. "If you tell maman, she'll never forgive me. She won't love me anymore!" Another wave of loud sobs erupted from her and I could no longer take it._

 _"I'm not going to tell, Jules." I stressed, stopping to face my sister. She looked up at me with her tear-filled green eyes. "Even if I did tell, maman would forgive you. She'll always love you, Julianna."_

 _"No she won't! She'll hate me for not acting like a lady!" Jules cried._

 _"Maman wouldn't hate you, even if you killed a man." Jules wiped some of the tears from her cheeks. "I wouldn't hate you if you punched me in the face, Julianna."_

 _"Why?" she asked with a sniffle._

 _"Because we love you. We'll always love you, even if you killed a man or punched me in the face." I answered. She sniffled again and hugged me tightly._

 _"I'll love you till the day I die, Vivienne. Even if you think the Seine is prettier in the winter." A smile lit up my face and I embraced my sister back._

 _"I'll love you the same, Jules."_

Despite our stubborn ways, we learned to accept the fact we were different. Just because we disagreed, did not mean we hated each other. Just because I ended up telling our mother did not mean I did not love Julianna. She was mad at me for quite some time after that, but she came around and we were closer than ever. The love I had for my family and they had for me was unconditional, something I realized that day. Monsieur Destler had known this love once, but it was torn away with the death of his wife. If there was anything I took away from all that Monsieur Khan told me, it was that Erik had been the happiest when he had his wife. Perhaps all it would take to bring Gustave and his father back together was some of that same love.

Turning on my heel, I ran back the way I came. There was no doubt in my mind now. If there was any chance I could help bring the family of two back together, I would take it. Even if I failed, at least I would know that I had tried. I pounded on Monsieur Khan's door when I arrived back. It probably sounded like a madman knocking, but I did not care. Nor did I care that my hair had fallen out of the bun I put it in or that my cheeks were red from running. Darius opened the door and I asked to see Nadir. Inviting me in, he left and returned moments later with Monsieur Khan.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, are you alright? You look..."

"I'll take the job!"

* * *

 **A/n: Hope this chapter was alright. I hate plot heavy chapters. Gah! Anywhoozles, hope you enjoyed it. Until next chapter, my dear readers.**


	6. Chapter 6

_**Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

 _"Erik, this is not healthy." Nadir sighed, standing in the doorway. "You've shut yourself up in here since the funeral. Your child needs..."_

 _"What do you know, Nadir?" I seethed. "What do you know of this agonizing pain? She's gone and there is nothing I can do to bring her back." The man had come every single day since my beloved's funeral. I despised his visits and, although he thought he meant well, I did not want his pity. I did not want anyone's pity because it served no purpose. Pity could not raise the dead._

 _The Persian man sighed and walked into the room, coming to stand next to my bed, where I had spent the last week. "She may be gone, but you still have a duty to your child. That baby boy is what is left of her, Erik. Do you want to lose him too?" I did not answer, as I did not know the answer. He was the reason my angel died, his birth killed her. Yet, Nadir was correct. The child was the last thing she gave me out of love. A love that tore her from my life. The child could not replace the gaping hole in my heart, but I was not going to allow him to be torn from me either. "Are you ignoring me, Erik?"_

 _"Nadir, I do not want you here any longer." I snapped. "Leave now."_

 _"The child does not even have a name!" he fired back. "Christine did not get the chance to name him. Don't tell me you're going to let him go on without..."_

 _I sat up and glared at this man who dared trying to tell me what to do. He jumped at the sudden motion, though I was sure my unmasked face added to the shock. The remains of the mask were in a shattered mess on the floor, having thrown the mask against the wall across from my bed. "Get. Out. Now." I said through clenched teeth._

 _"I cannot leave. Not when you're like this." The infuriating man did not move and I growled in annoyance._

 _"Your presence is obnoxious and I do not care whether you want to leave or not. I want you gone."_

 _"I will leave when you take responsibility for your son."_

 _"Leave."_

 _"No."_

 _"Nadir!"_

 _"Does he really not matter to you?"_

 _"_ _ **Of course he matters! He's the only thing that matters anymore!**_ _" Nadir froze, a surprised expression stuck on his face. I sighed, my shoulders slumping under the weight of this crushing sadness. "Like you said, he is all I have left of Christine."_

 _"Then why aren't you spending every moment you can with him?" Nadir asked._

 _"I am afraid." I admitted. "I'm afraid of loving him."_

 _"Afraid of loving him?" Nadir scoffed. "I've never heard of such nonsense."_

 _"What if I lose him too, Nadir? I don't know how to be a father. What if I kill him?" Running a hand through my hair, I tried to wrap my mind around having a child to care for as I had been for the last few days. My inexperience with children, with caring for another human being, had me doubting my ability to be a father._

 _"Well, what are you going to do with him then? If you're not going to take care of him, who is? Are you going to give him to an orphanage? What is your plan, Erik?"_

 _I did not have a plan. I knew I did not want to give my son away to some stranger I would never meet. Nor did I want to risk losing him by caring for him myself. Nadir would make a great father for him, as he was always being the father I never asked for. He would likely not agree to it, even if I asked with the nicest words in my vocabulary. "Hire someone, Nadir. Someone who can care for him better than I ever could."_

 _"So you're keeping him?"_

 _"Yes." There was no way I would let Christine's last gift to me go, but I was not the person to care for him. Now the only issue was naming the child. Christine had spoken highly of her father, who had passed away when she was younger. He had been a brilliant violinist and adored his daughter wholeheartedly. She believed, had I been able to meet the man, that we would have gotten along well. "I am keeping Gustave."_

 _"Gustave." Nadir repeated, testing the name. His foreign accent made the name sound weird, but he nodded. "I think Gustave is a perfect name for him. But I am still not sure your decision is the best. The boy will one day want to know his father."_

 _"I know. I know..." He would want to know his mother as well. And he would be sorely disappointed to know she no longer existed. He would never know the reason for her death. Even if I had to go to great lengths to keep him in the dark about his mother, I would not let the guilt fall on his shoulders._

 **...**

 **Erik's POV**

"Sir, Mademoiselle Clerisseau will be arriving shortly." I looked up from the composition I was working on to glance at the clock. It was about the time Nadir said they would be arriving. I thanked the maid that had come to remind me and she left. Picking up the untouched staff paper, I set it inside a folder. _So much for working._ The music that filled my mind constantly was replaced with thoughts of the past. Nothing seemed to make the thoughts leave and my work suffered for it. Then Nadir insisted that I greet the new caretaker for Gustave. I had never greeted the prior ones and I was wishing I wouldn't have to start now.

After I helped her home, I did not expect to see the young woman again. It was a rare occurrence when I walked the city streets. When I did, I avoided anyone that I happened to notice. I was lost in thought that night and would have run into her if she had not cried out in surprise. I expected her to keep screaming, as I was sure she believed me to be a man trying to take advantage of her. Her screaming did not continue but the look on her face told me that she was studying mine. I knew that she couldn't see anything but my eyes in the darkness. It was the first thing people did upon meeting me, and I did not appreciate it.

When she apologized and explained her situation, my first thought was that I did not care. She lived in the city and looked old enough to know where she was going. I apologized for frightening her and continued on my way. When she called out again, I knew that she was truly unaware of where she was. This street was not kind to anyone who wandered down it at night. It was about the time that pubs would have been closing and the inebriated customers would be forced out. In their incoherent state, they would likely not be able to tell the difference between 'yes' or 'no'. Not to mention the thieves that came to prey on said drunks. They were far more dangerous, being aware of what they were doing.

I happened to be walking right by her street and could not in good conscience let her walk alone. So I offered to walk with her. When she started to babble on about how thankful she was, I remembered why I did not enjoy being around young women. Or any person, for that matter. I cut her off, simply saying I did not need to be thanked for helping her. She was silent up until the chattering of her teeth was likely audible to the entire city. The sound was more awful than her talking so I draped my cloak around her shoulders. The cold did not affect me anyways and it would stop that annoying sound. She thanked me and we continued in silence.

When we arrived at her street, she tried to give the cloak back to me. I did not know what convinced me to give it to her. She did need it more than I did, but I could get a new one. My generosity baffled her and she still wanted to give it back. I knew that she wouldn't take it unless I asked something of her in return, so I did. My request was not to her liking, as it did not matter in the least bit. Her name would likely be forgotten and I would never see her again in my life.

But I did see her again and would be seeing her until she broke one of the many rules of staying here. Yes, I knew she would break one rule or another. It happened more than one would expect and she would be sent away if it were one of the stricter ones. She seemed like a curious girl, one who wandered into trouble. Her idleness had gotten her lost on an unforgiving street. It was only a matter of time until that idleness got her into trouble here. Nadir had, hopefully, already explained the rules to her. If not, I would have the pleasure of laying them out myself. It was not my favorite thing to do, but it was to protect myself and Gustave. People were cruel. The world is cruel. I had not allowed anything to ruin our lives and was not going to stop now.

 **...**

 **Vivienne's POV**

 _Rule One: You cannot speak about Monsieur Destler or anything related to him with anyone except himself or the other staff._

 _Rule Two: You must never speak about the late Madame Destler._

 _Rule Three: You cannot leave the house without permission. Any trip away from the house must be approved by Monsieur Destler._

 _Rule Four: Gustave is to be woken up at 7:00 each morning and be in bed by 9:00 each night. You are to care for him between those times._

 _Rule Five: Gustave must be in his playroom or his bedroom, except for meals which are taken in the dining hall._

 _Rule Six: Gustave must attend studies in the terrarium every other day except for Saturdays and Sundays._

 _Rule Seven: Any work given to Gustave by his tutors must be completed well before the date it is to be graded._

 _Rule Eight: Anything Gustave asks of you, must be done unless it requires you break one of the rules._

 _Rule Nine: Gustave must be kept busy so he cannot hinder his father's work or other employees._

 _Rule Ten: Under your care, you may not harm Gustave. Any form of punishment is strictly forbidden._

I repeated these rules in my head all the way to Rosenmier Manor, the home of Monsieur Destler and his son. It was a long drive through the country to their home and I did not have much else to do. They were rough rules and Nadir had done his best to make sure I was ready to follow them. Upon returning to his home that day, he wrote out each of these rules on a piece of paper and told me to memorize them. He also warned me that I would have to face Monsieur Destler if any of the rules were broken. They were simple rules, but far stricter than any rules I had to follow before. So I memorized them, as Nadir said, in hopes that I would be more prepared for this day.

I did not feel prepared at all when I woke up this morning. Madame Larousse had made me work extra hard all week due to my leaving. That woman had no sympathy what-so-ever and I was kept late the night before I was due to leave. Marine and Elisa had stayed late as well, only to surprise me with a brand new dress. It was the loveliest piece I had ever seen and I promised I would wear it the next day. Needless to say, I arrived home late and did not stop to eat dinner. I finished packing and went to bed much later than I normally did. After washing up and getting dressed, I joined my family downstairs for breakfast. It was going to be hard getting used to not seeing them every day. They were happy for me and understood that my leaving them was good for me. I felt just the opposite, wishing I could bring them with me. When breakfast was finished was when it hit me that I would not be seeing them for quite some time. Mother gave me a nice pair of gloves and a toy to give to the child I was caring for. She hugged me and asked me to stay in touch. Julianna hugged me for what seemed like hours, making me promise to write every week. My father gave me a hug and told me to not worry about them while I was gone.

It was going to be hard to not worry about them. They had always been there for me, but I was leaving them to start a new chapter in my life. A chapter that I had wanted to start for so long. It was only then that I realized how much I was going to miss this familiar routine. I could not help but think of all the things I would miss about it. On the brighter side of things, I looked forward to doing what I had always dreamed of doing.

"We're here." Nadir said from the seat across from me in the carriage. Wanting to surprise myself, I did not look out the window before I climbed out of the carriage. The coachmen opened the door and Nadir climbed out, waiting outside to help me down to the ground. The building that I was met with outside the carriage was breathtaking. The three story mansion was like no other building I had seen before. There were domed roofs and intricately carved designs in the beige stone. The windows were large and clean, reflecting the winter scene I stood in. Rose bushes lay dormant beneath the windows closest to the ground. Snow that had fallen recently blanketed every surface it could. The coachmen took my bags from the carriage and carried them into the house. When the carriage behind us pulled away, it revealed a still fountain behind it. An angelic figure stood at the top, reaching towards the cloudy sky.

"This place is beautiful." I had not anticipated the beauty of Monsieur Destler's home. "I could never have dreamed of a place this wonderful."

"I'm glad you like it because you will be here for the foreseeable future." Turning away from the fountain, I watched as Monsieur Destler descended the few steps leading up to the front door. When he reached Monsieur Khan and I, he nodded to his friend. "Nadir." Then he turned to me, giving me the same deep bow he had the night we met. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau. I hope your ride was not too awful. Having to ride with him," He motioned to Nadir. "Is not one of the most pleasant things in the world."

"Hey!" Nadir snapped.

"It was actually very pleasant. The countryside is beautiful this time of year." I replied. "I look forward to living and working here."

"Excellent. I am glad to hear that. Shall we go inside and out of the cold?" Nadir nodded, as did I, and we followed Monsieur Destler into the house. As he shut the doors behind us, there came a long and loud wail from one of the upper floors.

"Was that..." I began, but did not have the chance to finish.

"You will start your duties after we have talked, Mademoiselle Clerisseau, and not a moment sooner." Monsieur Destler's lips were pressed into a frown. He looked down at me with his mismatched eyes, and I felt like melting into a puddle on the ground in embarrassment. His gaze was as cold as it was intense and I was sure it could make any man turn tail and run. If I wasn't so set on this job, I would have in a heartbeat. The wailing continued and I glanced at the winding staircase leading up to the second floor. "Am I understood, Miss Clerisseau?"

My gaze retreated to look down at the white marble floor. "Yes, sir." I watched him turn on his heel and followed silently. How could someone let a child go on crying like that? It was not proper, nor was it healthy for the child. As we followed Monsieur Destler, I hoped and prayed that I would be able to do my job here and do it well. _Or else you'll have to answer to Monsieur Destler. And that is something you don't want to do._ Nadir's words rang through my head once again, a warning to not do anything to displease Erik. _Let's hope you haven't done that already, Viv..._


	7. Chapter 7

_**Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 7**

Gustave's wailing faded away as Erik shut the doors to his sitting room. Nadir and I had already taken a seat next to the warming fireplace. On a table to the side of the chaise, sat a tray with hot tea and coffee which Monsieur Destler offered to the two of us. Nadir took some of the coffee while I opted for the Earl Grey. As I stirred some honey and cream into my tea, Erik began speaking and I did my best to listen. "Welcome to my home. Mademoiselle Clerisseau, I assume that Nadir has gone over the rules I have set in place for my privacy, as well as my son's safety?"

"Yes he has." I answered, taking a sip of the tea. I wanted to ask some questions pertaining to the rules. The flexibility of Gustave's schedule for one. He was a child and shouldn't have to follow such a strict agenda. Even how his child was contained to certain rooms. Nadir had made me aware that Erik had not seen his son since he was born. He likely did not know what Gustave wanted or needed to grow up properly. I was only concerned for the boy, otherwise I wouldn't ask my questions at all. "All ten of them. I was actually hoping you could answer..."

"Excellent." Monsieur Destler interrupted. "I appreciate you taking the job and understanding my guidelines. Now, on to your duties."

"Monsieur Destler, I have a few questions before we move on to my duties." I cut in before he started his next sentence. His lips pressed into a frown once again and I noticed how he tightened his grip on his coffee. Nadir glanced at me over his cup while taking a sip, an amused look on his face.

"What questions do you have?" he pressed, his eyes locking with mine. A lump rose in my throat. _I didn't expect him to let me continue._ "Go on."

Swallowing the lump, I spoke. "Well, I noticed that the boy's schedule is quite limited, as well as where he is allowed in the house. He is only ten and I fear following such a strict one will make him miss out on the joys of being a child. Would you be willing to loosen it up some?" Monsieur Destler looked over at Nadir briefly, then back to me. I could not tell what the man was thinking, his expressions and stature unreadable. It was something I had never seen before. Who could be as unreadable as this man was? "Also, I was curious as to whether Gustave is allowed outside or not. Playing outdoors is good for growing children. The fresh air and exercise are good for them. If you don't wish to change these things, I will understand. You are his father and these are just my opinions as a caretaker."

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, you are right." Monsieur Destler said. I smiled, feeling accomplished by making him change his mind.

"I am glad you agree, Monsieur Destler." I sat my cup of tea down on the stand next to the chaise... "It is much..."

"I agree that these are your opinions and appreciate your concern, but that is not how I want my child raised." My smile was wiped clean off my face. Monsieur Destler's voice gained that cold tone again. "You are, as you said, not the child's parent. These rules are set in stone and I am not going to change them. His schedule is for the benefit of his education and so he doesn't sit idly whenever he wants to. The weather is far too unpredictable and I do not wish my child to get sick by going out in it. If he is anything like me, he is very susceptible to illness."

"Erik, surely you must see..." Nadir cut in at the same time I did.

"But, do you even know..."

"I do not want to hear it, Mademoiselle Clerisseau!" He turned to Nadir. "Do not encourage this, Nadir. As she said, Gustave is my son and he will be raised as I see fit. Now, if there are no more disruptions, we'll get to your duties." I kept my mouth shut and stared at the roaring flames in the fireplace. Monsieur Khan had nothing to say either, allowing Monsieur Destler to continue. He delved into what I would be doing on a daily basis. From helping Gustave dress to watching him while he played, bathing him to keeping him caught up on his studies. I did not argue with anything he told me, knowing very well it would fall on deaf ears. He made it clear that things were going to be done his way and the rules were not changing on my account. When he finished explaining, he rose from his seat and checked his pocket watch. "Now, I have work to attend to. Nadir, please show Mademoiselle Clerisseau around the house."

"Of course, Erik." Nadir nodded.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, should you need help finding your way around, any of the staff will point you in the right direction. Above all, though," He stepped forward and stared down his mask covered nose at me. " _Follow the rules._ Good day." I waited until he was gone to look over at Nadir in disbelief.

"I know, mademoiselle." Nadir chuckled lightly. "He is the most stubborn man I've ever met. Give it some time. I'm sure if you do as he asks and Gustave improves, he will have a change of mind."

"Are you sure about that, Monsieur Khan?" I asked, finishing off my tea. I set the cup aside and rose from the chaise. "He does not seem like he'd budge even if an uncontrollable stallion was charging him."

"I've learned with him that a little bit at a time makes things happen faster." Nadir rose from his seat, straightening his dress coat. "Well, I best be showing you around the manor."

"Of course." I agreed. "Lead the way."

The house was just as it appeared on the outside: huge. The first floor had the sitting room, a library and a study, the kitchen, dining hall, and the terrarium. I met some of the important staff, such as the cook and the head of the cleaning staff. Nadir and I did not wander out into the gardens out back, as it was cold and snowing. We ventured up to the second floor, which was mostly guest suites and a few small sitting rooms. Gustave's room and playroom were on this floor and I would be staying in the room next to his. When I asked about the third floor, Nadir told me that the cleaning staff, himself, and Erik were the only ones allowed up there. He told me he wouldn't say anything more, just to not go where I was not allowed as it was a breach of Monsieur Destler's privacy.

Upon reaching the stairs, we continued straight and turned left down a hall. At the end of that hall, we turned right into another and I was shown into the third door on the left. Monsieur Khan opened the door revealing a beautiful room. I walked in to further admire it. The walls were painted a soft lilac and white curtains hung over a set of doors that led to a balcony. A white vanity sat next to the plain bed closest to the balcony doors and a nightstand sat on the other side. At the foot of the bed, there was a redwood chest with a cushioned top. Against the adjacent wall, there was a wide armoire and a changing screen. This room was far nicer than the room I had back in my parents' home. It was a surprise, but a pleasant one none the less.

"This is your room. You may unpack your bags. I will be with Gustave in the playroom across the hall. Take your time."

"Thank you, Monsieur Khan." He nodded and closed the door behind him. I looked down at the bed, seeing the cloak Monsieur Destler had given me. Sitting down next to it, I let out a deep breath. This was all so overwhelming. I suppose no amount of preparing could have readied me for this. It was new and exciting, but there was also the fact that I could lose it if I messed up. The pressure was on to do things the way Monsieur Destler wanted and meet his expectations. I found myself wishing for my mother to be here to give me advice. Jules' humor was also missed. That girl could find a beam of sunshine on the darkest day. It was not a dark day, by far, but a good laugh would make me feel all the better.

I unpacked after taking a few moments to myself. The large amount of storing space I had made me realize that I did not have much. As I finished hanging up my dresses in the armoire, I went back to my bag to double check. I laughed at what I had left in there. Picking up my old thin cloak that had been replaced, I folded it and hugged it against my chest. Why I packed it, I did not know. I suppose it held some sentimental value since my parents had bought it for me.

The once sky-blue fabric was faded and frayed in places at the bottom. Lifting the fabric to my face, I breathed in the scent of home. I could smell the cinnamon from the pastries my mother cooked this morning. There was a hint of Julianna's soap, vanilla and jasmine, as she had sat next to the cloak last night. She had just bathed and her hair was still dripping. Opening the chest at the foot of the bed, I placed the cloak gently inside. It was my little piece of home here and I felt happy knowing I'd brought it.

That completed my unpacking and I checked myself out in the vanity before leaving. Some of my hair had fallen out of the braid I did this morning. It took me a little time to re-braid it to where I knew it would stay. After looking myself over once again, I left the room and across the hall to Gustave's playroom. I knocked softly on the door and entered when a child's voice called out to enter. Twisting the silver door knob, I pushed the door open and entered.

Toys were scattered around the floor and Gustave sat in the middle of them. The boy had short sandy blonde hair and freckles beneath his big brown eyes. I could see that he shared his father's mismatched eyes and possibly their noses, but the rest had to be from his mother. His cheeks were rounded and had dimples. He looked up at me curiously and I smiled down at him. The boy frowned and turned his back to me. _How precious!_ I looked to Nadir who sat in a chair in the corner of the room. He shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward towards Gustave. "Gustave, this is Mademoiselle Clerisseau. She is the nice lady I told you about." Nadir spoke.

Gustave peeked at me over his shoulder. He turned his gaze to Nadir and whispered loudly to him. "Are you sure?" he asked. "She's not old like the others."

"I am." Nadir responded with a chuckle. I guess he had only had older caretakers before. "She is going to take care of you and play with you from now on. Why don't you go introduce yourself to her?" I watched the boy get up and walk over to me, stepping over all his toys. When he stopped in front of me, he looked down at the ground.

"Hello, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." he said, then bowed quickly. I held back a giggle and let him finish. "I am Gustave."

"Hello, Gustave." I said. He did not look up at me and I looked past him at his toys. I remembered the toy my mother had gave me to give to Gustave and excused myself to go get it. "Wait right here, Gustave. I have something for you."

I quickly went and retrieved the toy from my room. When I returned, Gustave was still standing there. I knelt down and handed him the painted wood horse. He took it, a smile lighting up his face. "Do you like it?"

"Yes." He turned it over in his hands, and looked up at me. "I like it very much."

"I'm glad." Nadir stood up and told me he would leave the two of us. He reminded me that if there was anything I needed, to write a list and have one of the staff give it to Erik to approve. I thanked him for his help and let him go. When I turned back around, Gustave looked up from his playing and patted a spot he had cleared.

"Will you play with me, Mademoiselle Clerisseau?" A smile crossed my lips and I did just as Gustave asked. _I think I am going to like it here..._ Picking up a stuffed bear, I played with the ten-year-old until dinnertime.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/n: Sorry, my dear readers. I apologize for the long wait on this chapter. Things have been pretty stressful for me, trying to find work and feel useful. My family has been very understanding and supportive, but it just seems like I've been running in circles. Writing has been nearly impossible with how stressed and down I've felt. Was starting to feel better, which is why I deliver this update. I hope you are all still here to enjoy the new chapter. Thanks for your patience.**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 8**

 **Vivienne's POV**

Dinner was a quiet affair, Gustave and I being the only two in attendance. I sat next to him at the table that could easily seat thirty people. The dark polished oak was pristine, with not a single scratch anywhere in sight. A grey lace table runner ran right down the middle from one end to the other, also in top condition. If I was not eating at it, I would believe this table to never have hosted a dinner. I suppose Gustave was the only one to eat here and he had his food served to him by the staff. He did not make any sound besides the sounds of his utensils against the plate. It was odd, but I suppose if he wanted to talk he would and I could not make him.

As I lifted a piece of a delectable dinner roll to my lips, I glanced over at the boy. He was so different now than he had been when we were playing before dinner. His face was straight and he lifted the food to his mouth like he was not thinking at all. It reminded me of the fancy wind-up toys children fancied. His motions were mindless, as if he were built to eat that way. It was sad and I hoped he would not always be this way. When Gustave's eyes shifted over to me, I snapped my head back to my plate. _Caught staring by a ten-year-old. Brilliant, Vivienne._

"It isn't polite to stare." Gustave said, setting his fork down on his plate. I looked over at him, feeling awful I'd stared. Having been told that a thousand times by my mother, I should have known better. Not to mention, it was, as he said, not polite to do. Gustave gazed up at me, his expression unreadable. Needless to say, I was a little unnerved, having never seen a child without a readable face. I was used to knowing exactly what the child was feeling and, sometimes, thinking just by the look on their face. Children were supposed to be expressive and careless, but in Gustave's eyes I could not feel or see either in him.

"I apologize." Gustave reached out a hand and placed it on my arm closest to him. I was quite surprised when he smiled.

"I forgive you. Monsieur Julian says that forgiving is a gentlemanly act." Gustave lifted his napkin from his lap and wiped some sauce from his chin. I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing now that he was not upset with me. I do not know what I'd do if he did get upset with me. Gustave folded his napkin and sat it on the table next to his plate before continuing to speak. "He tells me all sorts of things about being a gentleman. Are you a gentleman, Mademoiselle Clerisseau?"

A giggle passed through my lips, finding his question funny and endearing. Gustave must not have understood and scowled at me. "There is nothing funny about being a gentleman, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." I covered my smile with a hand, but the boy's expression over this was hard to ignore. "Stop smiling." His voice sounded harsher and I had to turn away to keep from bursting out in laughter. "I said," I heard his fork clattering onto the table and turned to see what he was doing. His plate was in his hands and I watched as he threw it on the ground, the sound of shattering glass combining with his shout. "Stop smiling!"

"Gustave!" I gasped, my eyes wide with shock. My smile disappeared as quick as he had smashed the plate. _So this was the Gustave Nadir had warned me about._ I did not know what else to say, besides the exclamation of the child's name. Rule Ten did not allow me to punish him, under any circumstances, though that was what he needed. This kind of behavior would only get worse if it continued. The boy crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes at me, as if he were challenging me to react. My eyes went to the smashed plate on the floor, the glass and remains of his dinner scattered around.

I was about to ask why he did that, but one of the kitchen staff came briskly into the room with a broom. She quickly set to work cleaning Gustave's mess, making it even harder to find the words to say. Was the staff used to Gustave's awful behavior? If so, I am sure they were getting fed up with dealing with the messes his tantrums created. Pursing my lips, I took a deep breath and opened my mouth to speak.

"I am finished with dinner." Gustave rose, pushing his chair back from the table. Closing my mouth, I decided I would not say anything for now. He got down from his chair and I folded my napkin, then stood up from my seat to follow him. As I passed through the dining room doors, I cast a glance over my shoulder at the staff member that came to clean. She caught my eyes and frowned, shaking her head. I turned away, wishing I knew what to have done in this situation.

When we arrived upstairs, it was time for Gustave to bathe. I readied his bath while he played with some toys in his room outside the connected bathing room. When the tub was filled, I called for Gustave and he came walking in. He stopped in front of me and lifted up his arms. I stood there, curious as to what he was doing. After a few seconds, I questioned him. "Aren't you going to undress?"

"That is what you are for, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Gustave answered. "My other nannies dressed and undressed me. I don't know how to."

"You don't know how to undress yourself?!" What had those caretakers been thinking? How would this child take care of himself when he grew old enough to be on his own? I knew how to dress myself by the time I was seven and no longer required help. "Well, I guess now is as good a time as ever to learn."

"What? Why?" Gustave asked.

"Because it is something you should know how to do. I won't be your nanny forever." The child looked me in the eyes wearily. "I promise I won't make you do it every time you need to. Just let me teach you and see that you can undress yourself."

"Absolutely not." He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned. "You will undress me or else I'll simply bathe in my clothes."

Yet again, I could not find the words to say nor what action to take. Gustave had the high ground thanks to the rules. Had I known that this was what I would be struggling with, I may not have taken the job. Sighing, I walked over and stood in front of Gustave. If this was how it was going to be, I might as well do what I was here for without causing much trouble for myself. He started to back away, but I spoke before he took even one step. "I will undress you. Can't wash your clothes and you at the same time."

…

By the time Gustave was asleep in his bed, I was about ready to tell Monsieur Destler that I quit. During his bath, Gustave would not sit still. This resulted in the front of my dress being completely soaked. Once I had him in his pajamas, he said that he was still hungry and wanted something to eat. I had to have the kitchen prepare a small something for him. When it arrived, he decided that he was no longer hungry and just wanted to go to bed. The maid that had brought up the divine smelling plate of biscuits looked annoyed, as I was sure she was. I would not have enjoyed having to bring something up the stairs only to take them down. To top it all off, after tucking Gustave in not once, but twice, I started to read a story. Only a few sentences in, he declared he was not tired and wanted to go play. Having no other choice than to give in, I put the book down and we went to his playroom. I sat in the chair where Nadir had been earlier, watching him sit on the floor with the wooden horse I had given him. Five minutes in, he was fast asleep on the floor.

I shut his bedroom door quietly, post having to carry him from the playroom. My arms ached a little, as I had never needed to carry a ten-year-old to bed before. How I had managed was beyond me, but I was grateful that I could go and rest in my own room. A long warm bath and the comfort of my nightgown were calling my name. As I pushed open the door to my room, a hand grasped my shoulder and I nearly screamed. The person that had grabbed me was quick to cover my mouth and I spun around to face them. A breath of relief passed through my lips at the sight of Monsieur Destler. Though, all I could see was those glowing mismatched eyes behind the stark white mask that covered most of his face. He had not a lamp with him for light, otherwise I would have noticed his presence sooner. "Good evening, Monsieur Destler. You scared me half to death just now."

"I apologize, as that was not my intention." I leaned in the doorway to my room, not quite sure what to say. Just a moment ago, I was wanting to tell him I was done and headed back home. His looming figure was intimidating, not to mention how he spoke with such an emotionless tone. Yet another way that Gustave and he were alike. "I take it you are managing well, Mademoiselle Clerisseau?"

"Oh yes." I nodded, praying he could not see the exhaustion in my eyes. "Gustave is a wonderful boy. I can' wait to get to know him better."

"Wonderful." Monsieur Destler said. "I do not know if Nadir told you, but if you have need of anything during your time here, you may make a request through Madame Blanchet. She works in the kitchen mostly, when she is not serving me. Any request will be brought to me by her. I will decide whether to approve the request upon receiving one or not. Your comfort here is of some concern to me, as you are caring for Gustave."

"Why, thank you, Monsieur Destler." The clock downstairs in the foyer chimed, announcing that it was half past nine. A yawn crawled its way up my throat and I covered it with a hand. There was no hiding my tiredness now. Monsieur Destler blinked in the darkness, not saying anything, for which I was thankful "Well, I must be getting to bed, as I must rise early. Will you be joining Gustave and I for breakfast tomorrow?"

In the darkness, his eyes narrowed into a glare directed at me. "Goodnight, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." he hissed angrily, before disappearing down the hall. I did not know why he had left in such a hurry, nor what brought on the sudden hostility. The man was infuriating, even when I had not brought up something to make him… I had brought up something to make him upset. He had not had anything to do with his son since the day he was born. Nadir had told me this and it was one of the deciding factors in my coming here. And here, I had just asked if he would join his son and I for breakfast. Groaning at my stupidity, I walked into my room and hoped that I had not angered him too much. It would not do me well to get sent home the same day I had gotten here. Or the day after.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/n: We begin this chapter with a correspondence between Vivienne and her sister. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 9**

 _Dear Jules,_

 _I promised I would write while I was away. So here I am writing this letter to you. I miss you and our parents. It is hard being so far away from you three. You've all been there for me and now all I will have is the letters you send. There is nothing I'd like more than to have you with me, reminding me of my manners or to receive a simple hug from you._

 _You'll likely want to hear about my first day, but I am unable to give you the details you probably want. I can tell you that I was not prepared at all for what I had to deal with. My worst fear was being ill-prepared and I had good reason. There are these rules that keep me from taking certain actions and I can't break them no matter the circumstances. One rule being that I can't talk to anyone about my employer or anything relating to them._

 _You must see the problem I am faced with now, dear sister. I don't know what actions to take. If I were able to tell you, you would not know what to tell me either. Mother, perhaps, could give me some valuable insight, but only if I could speak of the things I am not allowed to._

 _Anyways, enough of myself. How are you doing without me there? I hope you're not too lonely. I also hope mother is not crowding you, now that I am no longer around. It is something I could see her doing. Just let her know that you need your space, if such a thing is bothering you. She'll understand._

 _Well, it is getting far too late to keep writing. I am drained and will have to get as much rest in as I can before the morning. Let maman and papa know that I am doing as well as I can without you all. I love you three so very much and can't wait until I am able to see you once more. Stay strong for me, Jules._

 _Yours truly,_

 _Vivienne._

 **...**

 _Dear Vivi,_

 _Thank you for keeping your promise. I received your letter just the other day and opened it immediately. We miss you too and will look forward to each letter you send, pouring our hearts into our correspondence. I did not realize it, but reminding you of your manners kept myself in check. Without you here, they've started to slip a little and mother can't help but nag about it. I so wish there was a way to send a hug through a letter. Just imagine I'm there with you as you read this, holding you in my arms, alright?_

 _It is sad to hear that you were not happy with how things went. I had hoped to hear only good things from you, but it is exactly the opposite. These rules sound awful, if they're keeping you from doing a decent job. You're the caretaker and should be able to do things the way you're used to. Take it up with your employer, if possible. If your employer is the problem, maybe you should consider quitting. You could not have known all of what you were walking into and I would not blame you for wanting out. It would be nice to have you home, but you do what you think you can handle. I don't know what to tell you, since you can't tell me what it is you're struggling with. My only advice is to push forward and do as much as you can while following the rules._

 _Ah, yes. Leaving the pleasantries for the very end of your letter, dear sister. That is so like you. I am doing well, besides the fact that I miss you. Mother is not hovering over my shoulder any more than she was when you were here. If anything, she has withdrawn a little. She sets to work as soon as she rises and doesn't rest until everything is finished. I step in where I can and she has told me that she misses you so much it hurts. Papa and I are here for her, though. We are making sure that things go easy for her._

 _I hope you got that needed rest. Maman scolded me just a minute ago for staying up too late writing this letter to you. I told them that you loved them and they wished for me to tell you that they love you too. I love and miss you as well, Vivi. My every thought and prayer will be for you. Lord knows you need it._

 _Remaining strong,_

 _Julianna_

 **...**

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, setting the letter from Julianna down on the vanity. The letter had arrived earlier that day during Gustave's etiquette lesson. I had sent my own letter the day after I arrived at Rosenmier Manor, hoping to hear from my sister soon. Three days later, her response came and I could not have been happier. Though I wanted to open it then and there, I decided to wait until I had put Gustave to bed that evening. It would not have done me well to cry in front of anyone after reading the letter.

That second day had not been any easier than the first. Gustave refused to get up and go downstairs to eat breakfast. When I attempted to get him out of bed myself, he screamed and began a terrible tantrum. An hour later after he had calmed, I had the kitchen bring breakfast to his playroom and allowed him to eat there. The rest of the day, Gustave fought me every step of the way. He did not want to practice his piano playing, although he needed to since it was required. The child was so furious with me, that he did not even want me to play with him. Once, he asked me to leave his playroom and never come back. I told him I could not leave him by himself and he threw another fit. Luckily, when I put him to bed, he fell asleep within minutes.

The next three days after that had been just as difficult. I dreaded getting up each morning and was dead on my feet when I went to bed at night. There were moments where I wished I could break every single one of Monsieur Destler's rules. Especially the last rule. But, over the last five days I had seen brief glimpses of the good in Gustave. They came at me from seemingly nowhere and I could not help but feel his behavior could change.

My first glimpse into the true nature of Gustave was when he attended his piano lesson, albeit a day later than scheduled. The boy sat down at the bench and warmed up with scales and such, as was normal. But when he began playing an actual piece of music, I was amazed at what happened. Awestruck, I watched him sway softly to the music he drew from the piano. There was such a peacefulness in the way he played. It was as if he were an entirely different person. I could see, although he was sitting right there in front of me, he was far, far away. When he finished, I could not help but applaud him. He did not acknowledge me, choosing instead to listen as his instructor corrected him.

I knew there was hope for Gustave. Even if nobody else saw it, I believed he could change for the better. One day, he would no longer throw hour-long tantrums. He'd be able to dress himself and do everything a child could ever wish to do. I did not know how I would get him to that point, but I knew that if anyone was capable of doing so, that person would be me. It would be hard work figuring out how to achieve this, but he feeling of accomplishment after achieving it would be well worth it.

I picked up the letter from the vanity and slid it back into the envelope. Placing it in one of the drawers, I yawned and started for my bed. Outside the house, the wind was howling and I noticed it was snowing heavily through the paned balcony doors. I shivered, just thinking of how cold it was out there and snuggled deeper under my covers. Tomorrow I would be sure Gustave was warm and dress him in something to keep him as such. My eyes started to drift shut and I sighed, allowing sleep to overcome me.

Only, it did not overcome me. Instead, there was a quiet knocking on my door. I sat up, annoyed that someone, likely Monsieur Destler, was awake at this hour. Tossing the covers off of me, I grabbed the top blanket and wrapped it around me before going to answer the door. "Don't you know how late it..." I began as I opened the door, only it was not Monsieur Destler standing outside my room. "Gustave, what are you doing out of bed?"

"I..." The wind howled louder and he stepped closer to me. He was practically hugging my legs and I knew right away that he was frightened. Julianna had been the same way for the longest time. Any loud sound, whether it was the wind howling or a crack of thunder, kept her from sleeping. Many nights, she would curl up in bed with me and I would hold her till she fell asleep. "I could not sleep. The wind is too loud and it woke me. Can I stay in here with you?"

"Of course you can." Opening the door wider, I allowed him to walk in and shut the door behind him. When I turned around, Gustave was sitting on my bed, his knees pulled up to his chest. I walked over and placed the blanket I had been holding around me over his shoulders. He looked up at me and I noticed the tear stains on his cheeks. My heart sank, knowing he had cried over this. I sat next to him and brushed his bangs out of his face. "Everything is going to be alright. It is just the wind."

"It scares me, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Gustave whimpered. "Why does the wind have to be so loud? It sounds like a ghost wailing. I don't like ghosts." I wrapped my arms around the child and drew him to me. I was surprised when he wrapped his arms around me in return. "Can you make the wind stop?"

"I wish I could, Gustave." I replied. "Everyone is frightened of something. Even I am, sometimes. It is okay to be scared."

"I don't like to be scared." Gustave hugged me tighter. When Julianna was this frightened, I'd help her by making her think of her favorite things. She'd start to list them on her own after a while, completely forgetting her fears. It was as if she had never been frightened in the first place. Perhaps this would work with Gustave.

"Do you want to know what I do when I am scared, Gustave?" He looked up at me and nodded. "Whenever I am scared, I think of my most favorite things. Things that no matter what I am feeling, cheer me right up."

"But I can't think of anything when I'm this..." The wind howled and the balcony doors flew open, blowing snow and frigid air into the room. I flew from the bed and shut them tightly, being sure to lock them. Gustave was hiding beneath the blanket when I turned around. His shoulders were shaking and he was sobbing quietly.

Joining him on my bed once again, I embraced him and prayed that this would work. Closing my eyes, I began to sing softly.

 _Raindrops on roses  
And whiskers on kittens  
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens  
Brown paper packages tied up with strings  
These are a few of my favorite things_

 _Cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels  
Doorbells and sleigh bells  
And schnitzel with noodles  
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings  
These are a few of my favorite things_

 _Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes  
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes  
Silver-white winters that melt into springs  
These are a few of my favorite things_

 _When the dog bites  
When the bee stings  
When I'm feeling sad  
I simply remember my favorite things  
And then I don't feel so bad_

 _Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens  
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens  
Brown paper packages tied up with strings  
These are a few of my favorite things_

 _Cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels  
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles  
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings  
These are a few of my favorite things_

 _Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes  
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes  
Silver white winters that melt into springs  
These are a few of my favorite things_

 _When the dog bites  
When the bee stings  
When I'm feeling sad  
I simply remember my favorite things  
And then I don't feel so bad_

When I opened my eyes, Gustave was leaning against me, the blanket no longer over his head. He was fast asleep, his eyes shut peacefully and a contented smile on his face. This was a step in the right direction and I hoped that the only way from here was forward. Lifting Gustave into my arms, I carried him from my room and back to his own. I laid him on his bed, tucked him in and returned to my room, smiling until I fell asleep myself.

 **A/n: If you don't know the song used in this, I highly suggest you watch the Sound of Music. Favorite Things is perhaps my favorite song from the musical, which is why I used it. Leave some love in the reviews!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/n: Hello! I always seem to be apologizing for long waits on chapters. Life just got really busy (not to mention the serious case of writer's block with this chapter). I hope you guys enjoy it. Read and review!**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 10**

 **Erik's POV**

"Monsieur Destler, you called?" Madame Blanchet asked as she entered the room. I turned away from my piano to look to her. She carried a tray with tea and some biscuits, setting them down in front of the settee on a table. "I brought you some tea and a little to eat. You have yet to ask me for a decent meal."

"Thank you, Madame Blanchet." No matter how much Madame Blanchet pushed, or Nadir for that matter, I would not ask for a decent meal. They were trivial necessities that I did not have the time for. My body could survive off the bare minimum, whether it be sleep or sustenance. I rose from the piano bench, straightening my vest. "I called you here to hear about my son. How has he been?"

"He has been his usual self, monsieur." she answered, handing me the cup of tea she had poured for me. Taking a sip, I sat down at the settee and listened as she spoke. "Though, it seems his tantrums have been more and more. Mademoiselle Clerisseau has handled them as well as she could, but could not prevent them. She seems to be doing well despite the tantrums."

"And his studies? They have not been negatively affected by his behavior, have they?" I questioned.

"Gustave missed his piano lesson on Monday, but it was made up on Tuesday. As for the rest of his studies, they have not suffered." Madame Blanchet finished, and topped off my cup of tea. "Is there anything else you need, while I am here?"

I hummed, trying to think if there was anything else. "I cannot think of anything at the minute. Just keep watch over Mademoiselle Clerisseau and make sure she obeys the rules. Alert me if she does not."

"Yes, monsieur." Madame Blanchet curtsied, and then left the room.

A week had passed and I was rather surprised Mademoiselle Clerisseau had not messed up. She was young and not as experienced as the previous nannies. I had been sure she would not have lasted her first few days, let alone the first week. Madame Blanchet had been keeping watch over her when she could. I reached for a biscuit, contemplating if I should check up on her myself. Perhaps I would catch something Madame Blanchet had missed. I took a small bite out of the savory treat and set it back down.

Rising from the settee, I proceeded to the wall behind the piano. To everyone but myself, the wall was perfectly normal. Its dark green wallpaper hid something only I was aware of. My hand ran along the wall until it found the soft spot. Pushing against it gently, I activated the pressure plate hidden. The section of the wall in front of me slid open and I entered, allowing the wall behind me to close. Once it did, I proceeded through the secret passage. First, I would investigate her room. She would never be able to tell I was even there by my use of the hidden passages throughout the house. Then I would spend some time observing her interactions with Gustave. They would not even be aware of my presence, but I would be of theirs. There was nothing going on in my house that I did not know. _If you are hiding anything, woman, I will find out._ Sliding the wall aside, I entered Mademoiselle Clerisseau's room.

…

 **Vivienne's POV**

"Gustave needs to work on his table manners." I glanced over at the child, where he was watering a rose bush. That certain rose bush seemed to be his favorite, as he pampered it whenever he had the chance. We were attending his etiquette lessons with Monsieur Julian, but had not started yet. "I noted that as something for him to work on, if you care to go over it with him."

"Of course, mademoiselle." Monsieur Julian agreed eagerly. The etiquette instructor looked quite young, far younger than I would imagine one to be. He was likely in his early thirties, with short light brown hair combed back neatly. His green eyes were bright, but there were dark circles underneath. He must not have had much sleep last night. However, he appeared to be managing with the sleep he had gotten. "We will start with that."

I nodded and walked over to Gustave, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Gustave," The child set the watering can down and looked up at me. "Monsieur Julian is ready to start your lesson."

"Yes, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." He brushed the dirt of his hands and joined his instructor at the table in the middle of the room. I took up the watering can and wandered around the room to water the plants ignored by the boy. Though I was sure one of the staff members made sure to do so, it would give me something to do while waiting. As I walked around, I listened to Gustave's lesson.

"Gustave, can you recite your table manners for me?" Monsieur Julian asked the child.

"Yes, Monsieur Julian." Gustave nodded and began to do so. It took him a minute to finish listing them off for his instructor. Monsieur Julian corrected his mistakes and then asked him to act out each one. Gustave did so, for each rule that Monsieur Julian presented to him.

"Excellent, Gustave. Very well done." Monsieur Julian praised. "Don't forget them, now. Gentleman never forget such important things."

"Yes, Monsieur Julian." Gustave acknowledged.

"Now, on to your greetings."

I put the watering can away and took a seat upon a cushioned bench. Had I known I would be sitting around for at least a few hours a day, I would have brought my sewing materials with me. It would have given me something to do. I guess I could just request some from Monsieur Destler. If he agreed to it, of course. He had not made an appearance since that first night. I took it he was still cross with me for asking him to change his rules; I would be too if I were so stuck in my own way.

About an hour later, Gustave's etiquette lesson was over. I was made aware of it when Gustave tapped my shoulder, taking me from my thoughts. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau, we may leave now." he said. "My lesson is over."

Looking past the child, Monsieur Julian was packing up his belongings. The tutor looked over his shoulder at me, grinning at the sight of me looking at him. My face flushed and I returned my focus to Gustave. "Of course." Standing up, I straightened my skirts and brushed the little bit of dirt that had gotten on it. "What do you wish to do now? That is if you don't have any work to do."

"Hmm..." The boy's face twisted in thought, his lips pursed and nose scrunched. When his face relaxed into a small smile, I knew that he had figured it out. "I want to paint! Let's go, Mademoiselle Clerisseau!" I remember Nadir briefly mentioning that Gustave enjoyed painting. Gustave looked impatient and I was going to thank Monsieur Julian for his time, but was unable to do so. Gustave took my hand began to lead me out of the room quite urgently. As we passed Monsieur Julian on the way out, he caught my exasperated look and chuckled.

Gustave took us up the stairs and to his playroom, where he finally let go of my hand. I went to the chair in the corner of the room and sat down while he pulled out his painting materials from a box. He retrieved the easel from one of the corners of the room and set it up in the middle of the room. Before he started, he pulled an apron that had splotches of paint all over it over his head. He walked over to stand in front of me and turned so his back was to me. "Can you tie it?"

Taking the ties from his sides, I tied them in a bow behind his back. Then he turned back around and held out his arms to me. I took it he wanted me to roll his sleeves and unbuttoned each sleeve before rolling it up just past his elbows. "There you go." I said, with a smile. He excused himself from the room to go to his bathing room for some water. He had been such a good child since our time together last night. There had been no difficulty today, something for which I was grateful. Things would, I hoped, get better from here on out.

Gustave returned from his bathing room, bringing with him a clear jar filled with water. The jar, which I assumed was for cleaning his brushes, was set on the easel. He then filled his pallet with every color of paint he owned and then took up a paintbrush. He looked like the painters I had seen in the art store next to the boutique, but a child. I watched in silence as he began to put paint to paper, his focus on the easel only wavering to glance at me every so often. It was an odd motion and I was going to ask why he was doing so, but he spoke up when my mouth opened. "Don't move."

"Why?" I asked anyway, earning an annoyed huff from the child.

"Because you're my subject." he replied. _He is painting me?_ My face flushed and whether it was because I was flattered or embarrassed, I did not know. I opened my mouth to ask how it was going, but Gustave was quick to shush me. "Do not speak or move until I tell you." He continued his painting and I remained silent and still, as he wanted me to.

For hours, I sat there watching him work. It was an eye-opening experience, to see him at peace while painting. He looked like every other ten-year old and was acting like one too. When he caught my gaze while painting, he would smile and tell me that I was doing great. After some time, he told me I could move now, which meant I could speak. Rising from the chair, I stretched and paced to get my blood flowing in my legs again before sitting back down. Gustave continued to work, so I assumed he was not yet finished. Glancing at the clock on the wall, I noted that dinner would be ready in about an hour. I hoped Gustave would finish the painting before then, so that he may wash up before eating.

Dinnertime drew near and I was about to ask if he could stop so he could wash up, he set his paintbrush down. "It is finished." Looking to me, he motioned for me to come to him. I rose from the chair and walked over to stand by the child. When I laid eyes on the painting, my breath hitched in my throat. "What do you think?"

"Gustave," I breathed, wishing I could reach out and feel the painting to make sure it was real. "It is _beautiful_." He had taken the time to paint me and I found myself looking at a mirror image of myself. In the painting, I was sitting on a stump in a beam of light, surrounded by a dark forest. Purple flowers were woven into the braid that hung over my shoulder. The all-around beauty of the painting was breathtaking, but it was not my favorite part. Sitting in my lap, with my arms around him protectively, was the spitting image of Gustave. His eyes were closed and a look of peace was on his face. Tears welled up in my eyes and I wiped them away.

Having noticed the tears, Gustave frowned. "Don't you like it? Why are you sad?" I laughed at his confusion, but was quick to explain so he would not get angered like he had before.

"Of course I like it, Gustave." I answered. "I'm not sad; these are happy tears. Your painting has made me so happy that I felt like crying." Gustave's confusion melted away and was replaced with a beaming smile. I could not believe that this was what he had imagined all on his own. Though, upon looking at the painting again, I realized it was similar to what had happened last night. Did it really mean all that much to Gustave? Was he truly this thankful for me calming his fear?

The opening of the door caught my attention and Madame Blanchet entered. "Dinner is ready." She glanced at Gustave, who was picking up after himself while messy, then back to me. "Why isn't Gustave washed up for dinner?"

"I was just about to take him." I answered. Madame Blanchet seemed unconvinced, but did not say anything on it. She told me that dinner would likely be cold by the time we got downstairs and then left. I let out a huff of annoyance, the woman not even giving me a chance to speak. It would not do well to miss dinner, so I turned to tell Gustave that cleaning up could wait until after dinner. "Gustave, come along. Let's go get you washed up."

"Alright." He set his apron down on the floor and then followed me to his bathing room. I washed every bit of paint that came off easily until all that was left was the little bit that had dried. Those spots would come off better in the bath and, therefore, could wait until after eating. We hurried downstairs and found dinner was just being set out. Dinner was much more wonderful and Gustave even utilized some of the etiquette he and Monsieur Julian had covered earlier that day. It was wonderful to see how much the boy had changed in such little time. The amount of change was unbelievable, to be honest, and I felt like I would wake from a dream at any moment.

After dinner, Gustave and I returned upstairs. I told him to go finish cleaning up while I drew his bath. He went merrily on his way and I turned on the water to begin filling the tub. As I poured some of the bubbly soap Gustave loved into the water, I heard a scream from outside the bathroom. The bottle of soap in my hand slipped out of my hand when I jumped at the sound. Immediately, I shut the water off to prevent the tub from overflowing and then ran from the room. Worry clouded my mind as I flung the bedroom door open and ran into the hall.

Bursting into the playroom, my first instinct was to find Gustave and make sure he was okay. When my eyes landed on the boy, I knew why he had screamed. To be honest, I would have screamed too, but the sight before me only made me want to cry. Gustave was kneeling on the ground, sobbing over the remains of his painting. I approached him and knelt down to sit beside him. When I placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, he shrugged it away and picked at the pieces of the canvas on the floor. "Gustave, who did this? Do you know?" I asked, though I wish I would have not known to do so.

"I don't know." The sadness in his voice made my chest ache. The thought that someone had sneaked in here, ruined Gustave's hard work, and just left was crushing. Who would be so heartless that they would destroy a child's painting?

"You can paint it again tomorrow." I said, hoping it would cheer him up.

"No." he sniffled.

"It wouldn't be much trouble." I placed my hand on his shoulder, not allowing him to shrug it away this time. "Come on. I'll have one of the staff clean it up for you."

"No." he said more forcefully.

"I need to get you bathed, Gustave." I squeezed his shoulder in a comforting manner, hoping to get a positive response from him. "You'll feel better after you bathe." In a matter of moments, Gustave rose to his feet and shoved me away from him.

"No I won't feel better!" Gustave shouted with his hands balled into fists at his side. Before I could say anything more, he began to tear apart everything in sight that he could. The easel was thrown across the room and the jar of water broken, spilling the murky contents on the floor. His pallet was smashed into pieces, the paint that remained on it making it a bigger mess. With his two hands, he broke every paintbrush in half and scattered the halves around the room.

The entire time his tantrum went on, I watched with fear and disappointment from the corner of the room. Things had been going so well, and yet they went bad so fast. Just hours ago, I felt like Gustave was starting to get better. If his progress had continued in the right direction, I was sure he would have become the best-behaved child I knew. Yet, here he was going in the opposite direction. His tantrum was violent and he did not stop for a moment. The nature of his tantrum, though, gave way to a quick burnout and I watched as he crumpled to the ground, in tears yet again.

 _Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes_

 _Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes_

I stood from the corner and watched Gustave's back heaving with his sobs.

 _Silver-white winters that melt into springs_

 _These are a few of my favorite things_

His sobbing lessened with my singing, so I continued, all the while, making my way towards him.

 _When the dog bites_

 _When the bee stings_

I knelt down next to him, hesitating only a moment before putting a hand on his back. He relaxed at the touch of my hand and I kept it there.

 _When I'm feeling sad_

 _I simply remember my favorite things_

I stopped singing, hoping for...

" _And then I don't feel so bad._ " Gustave sang quietly while sitting up. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged tightly, pressing his face into my shoulder. Folding my arms around him, I allowed him to cry on me. Tears of my own ran down my face and we cried together in the midst of his destruction. Eventually, we succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep there on the floor of his playroom.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/n: New chapter! Yay! Enjoy, my dear readers!**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 11**

 **Erik's POV**

 _"Hold still, madame." The photographer's flash lamp lit, giving off a burst of light. Looking to where Christine sat, I smiled. She was a vision of loveliness and after today, I would have something to preserve that loveliness. The photographer was a friend of Nadir's who originally offered to photograph the two of us. I was not one for photos and asked if he would, instead, photograph Christine. We had spent most of the afternoon here in the wood behind the house, taking many photos of my beloved angel. She wore a beautiful gown of green silk, with a purple bodice and gold accents. Her handmaid had taken some purple wildflowers and wove them into her hair. She was even more beautiful now than our wedding day and I could not take my eyes from her._

 _Upon catching my gaze on her, Christine smiled and blew me a kiss. My heart could have leapt out of my chest in that moment. It had only been a few months since our marriage, but I still could not believe that she was my wife. She was heaven-sent, a blessing that I would forever cherish. Her beauty was beyond words and the love she held for me was endless. There would never be a man as lucky as I was in a thousand years. Christine was the reason for that. "Monsieur," the photographer said, gaining my attention. I turned away from Christine and peered down my nose at the short man. "Would you like to join your wife for one last photo?"_

 _"No thank you, sir..." I began, only to have Christine interrupt._

 _"Oh, please Erik!" Christine begged, rising from the tree stump and rushing over to grab my upper arm. Gazing up at me with her big brown eyes, she pouted her luscious pink lips, hoping it would help get her way. "Just this once, my love. That is all I ask. You'll never have to take another again."_

 _"Christine, you know how I feel about photos..." I began, but trailed off as I looked into her eyes. She looked so eager and I heard a voice in my head saying I would regret it if I did not. Disappointing Christine was the last thing I wanted to do, so I caved. "But I suppose just one won't hurt."_

 _Christine squealed with delight and pulled my head down to place a kiss at the corner of my mouth, where my mask did not cover. "Come, my love!" she laughed, pulling me to the stump. She sat down on it and directed me to stand behind her, then turned slightly and looked up at me. "Now look at me, Erik."_

 _I tilted my head down, looking her in the eyes. "Like this?" She nodded._

 _"Now cup my cheek." she directed. I did as she told, cupping the soft roundness of her cheek. "Monsieur, when you are ready."_

 _"Here we go." the photographer said, and the flash lamp lit for the last time that day._

…

Pounding on Nadir's door, I waited impatiently for either him or Darius to answer. They were likely still in bed, as it was just turning two in the morning. Footsteps from inside the apartment came towards the door and I knew it was Nadir, by the sound of them. The lock in the door clicked and Nadir pulled it open. "Good morning, Nadir." I said, brushing past him and into the apartment. The man was still in his nightclothes and quickly shut the door to keep out the cold January air.

"Erik, this is far too early to be calling." he said, turning around to face me. "For Allah's sake, what are you doing here? You must have left last night to get here. This better be important enough to wake me up before the sun rises."

"Shall we go to your sitting room?" I asked. "Or do you wish for me to sit by your bed and explain while you doze off?"

"Your sarcasm never ceases to exist, old friend." Nadir shook his head. "I suppose we can sit in the study. But I will not make tea or coffee for you at this hour, understood?"

I nodded and followed the Persian man to his sitting room. I took my seat in the high-backed chair and waited for him to sit. I growled in annoyance when he excused himself to get some matches to start a fire in the fireplace. It was more for himself, since the cold did not affect me. The longer he took, the more I wished I had not taken the time to come here. When at last he returned and had a fire burning, he sat down on the chaise and asked me to explain my being here.

"It is Mademoiselle Clerisseau, Nadir." I started. The sentence caused the old man to lift an eyebrow in confusion.

"Has she not followed the rules?" he questioned.

"No." I answered. "She has not broken any of the rules."

"Well, what is the matter with her then?" Nadir pressed. "You have only been displeased with an employee when they did not follow your rules. If she hasn't broken any, then what could you possibly be cross about?"

"I want her gone." I seethed under my breath. "She is not the type of person I want around my son."

"That is absurd. Why the change of mind?" Nadir argued, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Erik, you better give me a good reason why she is no longer fit for the job. It was a miracle that I found someone like her to take care of Gustave, in the first place. If I have to find you another nanny, will you do the same thing you're doing now?"

"The woman is stealing my son!" I exploded, silencing Nadir. "I don't know when or how, but I believe he does not see her as he should. He does not see her as a nanny anymore. Here." Reaching into my breast pocket, I pulled out one of the photographs of my beloved wife. I always carried one around with met to remember her by. I handed it to Nadir and let him look it over.

"Allah above." Nadir breathed. "This is one of the photographs you had taken of..." He stopped before he said her name, knowing well what would happen if he said it. "What does this have to do with anything?"

I reached into my pocket once again, this time grabbing the torn piece of canvas I had stolen. "Gustave must have gotten a hold of one of the photographs, Nadir. He painted Mademoiselle Clerisseau yesterday afternoon." I handed the piece of canvas to my friend. On it was the painted face of Mademoiselle Clerisseau, but the expression was very similar to that of Christine's in the photograph. Nadir's eyes widened, having realized what I had last evening. "The resemblance is too similar to the photographs to be from his own imagination."

"He couldn't know that the woman in the photograph, if he has one, is his mother." Nadir said, still looking between the photograph and the piece of canvas. "I still don't see where you are getting the notion that Gustave sees Mademoiselle Clerisseau as his mother."

"There was more to the painting that I did not bring." I rose from my chair and took the photograph and the bit of canvas. Walking over to stand in front of the fireplace, I let the warmth wash over me. "He painted himself in her arms. That is what a mother does, Nadir. Mademoiselle Clerisseau is not fit to be seen as his mother." Crumpling the piece of canvas, I tossed it into the fire. "No one is anymore."

"I see." Nadir sighed. "Don't you think you may be overreacting a bit, Erik? Mademoiselle Clerisseau did not ask for Gustave to see her this way."

"I don't care, Nadir." Returning to the high-backed chair, I sat down and returned the photograph to my breast pocket. "This is not what I want for Gustave."

"Give her a chance, Erik. Set more boundaries." Nadir pushed. "You're so good at finding any reason to get rid of someone. Maybe you should try finding reasons to keep them."

"I don't want him to get any more attached than he already has. I will not be swayed by you, Nadir." We both fell silent, choosing not to say anything to one another. When we were both this cross, it was best not to say anything. If we continued, I would likely have ended up strangling the man. Eventually, Darius found us sitting there, having been woken up from our discussion. He offered to make some coffee for the two of us and went to do so at Nadir's acknowledgement. When Darius returned, he set the tray down and left us to serve ourselves.

"I just realized something, Erik." Nadir said, breaking the silence.

"What?" I balanced my cup on my leg, waiting for Nadir to continue.

"You destroyed Gustave's painting, didn't you?" Nadir looked me in the eyes, a serious look on his face.

"So what if I did?" The painting mattered the least to me. Nadir was right, but I would not allow him to guilt me into changing my mind. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau will be sent away as soon as I return home, regardless of who destroyed the painting."

"Get out of my home, Erik." I raised my eyebrows at Nadir's words. He had set his cup of coffee down and was looking at me with disappointment. "I don't know why you have to bring your problems to me all the time. You are still going to do what you want when you leave. The sooner she's gone the better, right? No one is fit to raise _your_ child for you, are they?"

I handed Nadir my cup and rose from the chair. "Right. Have a good day, Nadir." With that, I left the sitting room and started for the door. This was usually when Nadir would chase after me with something more to say. I reached the door to leave the apartment, but Nadir had not followed. I left his place and began the walk to where my carriage waited to take me home. _Foolish man. He does not know anything._

…

 **Vivienne's POV**

When I awoke the next morning, Gustave was curled up with his back against me. We had fallen asleep in his playroom and I regretted doing so. I was sore from sleeping on the uncomfortable floor, but somehow was able to sleep through the night. The wreckage from last night remained and I hoped the staff would not mind cleaning it up. It would also do well to tell Monsieur Destler about the destruction of Gustave's painting. Whoever was responsible for the action should not get away with doing something so cruel. It was likely one of the staff that had gotten tired of dealing with Gustave's many messes. My hope was that Monsieur Destler would get to the bottom of it and do it quickly.

Glancing up at the clock on the wall, I noted that it was about time for me to be getting up. Gustave was still fast asleep and though I did not wish to wake him, he too needed to move from the playroom floor. I sat up and shook Gustave's shoulder lightly. "Gustave, wake up."

The boy's eyes fluttered open and found me looking down at him. "Mmm..." he hummed, shutting his eyes again.

"Gustave, you need to take a bath this morning since you didn't last night." I said, shaking him again. "Come on. Time to get up."

"Do I have to?" Gustave whined, sitting up and rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Yes, you do." He yawned and stretched his arms, then stood up from the floor. I joined him and guided the child from his playroom and to his bedroom. He sat on the edge of his bed while I went and drained the water in the tub from last night. After I fished the now empty bottle of bubbly soap from the tub, I started to refill the bath. Gustave would just have to do without the bubbles until another was purchased. While it filled, I left the bathing room to go help Gustave undress.

As I exited the bathing room, I laughed at the sight before me. Gustave had attempted to remove his own shirt and now was struggling to remove it from over his head. No matter how he pulled, the shirt would not come off, so I came to his rescue. I pulled it back down and unbuttoned the collar, then eased it off his shoulders. "You were trying to undress by yourself, Gustave. I am impressed."

"Really?" he asked as I undid the ties on his pants. He stepped out of them and I put the discarded clothing in his hamper. "I got myself stuck, though."

"You did what every child I know has done before when undressing themselves." Walking back into the bathing room with Gustave on my heels, I shut the water off and helped him into the tub. "It is something to learn and it is easier to learn than playing piano."

Gustave allowed me to lather soap into his hair, all the while playing with some of the bath toys I put in the tub for him. When I began rinsing it, he stared up at me, a thoughtful look on his face. His mismatched eyes scanned my face, seemingly trying to study each feature. Before I knew what was happening, he had reached up and put his hands on either side of my face. I laughed, feeling the water on his hands run onto my cheeks. "What are you doing, Gustave? You're getting me wet."

"You look just like the lady." he said, dropping his hands back into the water. _The lady?_ I had not the slightest clue who Gustave was talking about. For all I knew, it could be just about any woman that Gustave had seen. "Well, not quite actually. Her hair is curled, but yours is straight. Your eyes are different too."

"Gustave, who are you talking about?" I asked, looking down at the child. A sheepish look crossed over his face and he dropped his gaze from me as quick as he could. He was definitely keeping something important from me, so I decided to press him further on this lady. "Gustave, who is the lady?"

"I can't tell you." he harrumphed. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"But you just said something about a lady." I argued as I pulled the drain in the tub. "Gustave, lying is not something a gentleman would do. Monsieur Julian will not be pleased if he finds out, will he?" He stayed sitting as the water drained, his arms crossed over his chest and a frown on his face. I picked up the towel I had set aside for him and held it up, waiting for him to stand up so I could wrap him in it. When he didn't stand, I sighed and tossed the towel over my shoulder. _Let's try a different approach._ "Gustave?"

"What?" the boy grumped.

"Can you please tell me who the lady is?" I kneeled down next to the tub, resting my arms on the edge. Gustave shook his head no "Does the lady work here?" Another shake of the head. "How do you know her?" He shrugged his shoulders. "Have I met her before?" Gustave growled in annoyance. I did not want to make him too upset this morning, so I decided to ask one more question. "Is the lady supposed to be a secret?"

Gustave's head snapped in my direction, his face showing his utter surprise. "How did you know?"

"So she is a secret!" I exclaimed.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, don't shout." Gustave whispered loudly. "I... I don't want you to get sent away too."

"Gustave, I am not going to get sent away." I said, taking the towel off my shoulder. "I know about the lady now, so you might as well tell me who she is."

"But you will get sent away!" Gustave whined. He grabbed my arm and shook his head with vigor. "You're the nicest nanny I've ever had, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. The last nanny I had was sent away because I told her about the lady. She made me promise to never tell anyone about her again." The child was nearly in tears, clutching at my sleeves. "I don't want you to go, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. Please don't make me tell you."

"Oh, Gustave," I cooed, lifting his chin to look me in the eyes. If I really meant this much to him, perhaps it was best that I not know who the lady was. Especially if it was something that could get me sent away. "I won't be going anywhere anytime soon. You don't have to tell me. I am sorry that I pushed you. Now let's get you dried off, okay?"

"Okay." Gustave sniffled. I rose to my feet, as did he, and I wrapped the towel around him. Just as I was finishing getting him dried off, there came a knock on his bedroom door. It was likely Madame Blanchet, coming to tell us that breakfast was waiting in the dining room. I hadn't even been able to wash up because I was busy taking care of Gustave. My dress was wet from bathing him and crumpled from last night. Most of my hair had fallen out of its braid and was a complete mess. Attending breakfast while looking like I had rolled out of bed minutes prior was not something I looked forward to.

Draping the towel over Gustave's shoulders, I excused myself to go answer the door. I grasped the doorknob and twisted it before pulling the door open. "Madame Blanchet, last night was..."

"Good morning, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Monsieur Destler greeted, his eyes shooting daggers at me. _Oh dear…_ "Can we step across the hall into your room for a moment?" _What have I done?_

 **A/n: Vivienne is in quite a predicament, isn't she? It does not help that Erik is a royal pain in the butt. Let's hope that she can survive whatever it is that he has to tell her. Leave some love in the reviews!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/n: Shorter chapter, for now. Enjoy my lovelies!**

* * *

 ** _Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day._**

 **Chapter 12**

"Good morning, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Monsieur Destler greeted, his eyes shooting daggers at me. Oh dear… "Can we step across the hall into your room for a moment?" What have I done?

"Of course. Let me go tell Gustave..."

"He does not need to know." Monsieur Destler barked.

"He has not even been dressed yet, monsieur." I argued. "His bath was not taken until this morning, as last night was not good for either of us. Someone destroyed a painting that Gustave..."

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, I do not care." My open mouth shut and I felt my heart ache for Gustave. Was this truly how his father felt about him? Did he not care for his child at all? For a brief moment, that sadness was all that I felt. That was until Gustave's father had the audacity to think I would want to listen to anything he said. I would not stand his cruelty for his own son. It was a miracle he hadn't sent Gustave away to an orphanage or distant boarding school. Perhaps it was time for someone to stand up to this man. "Madame Blanchet will dress him when she comes to fetch him for breakfast. Now, follow me Mademoiselle..."

I slammed the door shut on him mid-sentence. Shouts of anger followed me as I walked back to tend to Gustave, shouts that were blatantly ignored. I recalled that Monsieur Destler had not seen his son since his birth. It was likely he would not follow. I made it to the bathing room door and looked over my shoulder, but Monsieur Destler was still shouting from the others side of the door. Serves you right, you heartless man. Opening the bathing room door, I entered the room and prayed that Gustave's father would leave soon.

"Gustave, I am back..." I said as I poked my head into the room to look for the child. Still wrapped in his towel, Gustave ran past me and over to his bedroom door. Twisting the knob, he threw the door open and leapt upon his angered father. I stepped into the hall, unsure what to do.

"Father!" Gustave cried out happily. Monsieur Destler had fallen silent and was staring down at his child with wide eyes. Gustave was hugging his father around his legs and it did not appear he would be letting go anytime soon. "Father, you came to see me!"

"I... I..." Gustave's father looked to me, a pleading look on his face. I wasn't going to get between these two. Monsieur Destler had to deal with his son on his own. I shook my head, not wanting to get between the two. Monsieur Destler looked back down at Gustave and continued to try to say a single word to his child. All the while, Gustave was listing all the things he had to do with him or show him.

"We can water the roses in the garden or play with my toys. Do you want to see what I've been learning? You can listen to me play the piano or I can show you my manners." Gustave said, finally letting go of his father. He reached for one of the man's gloved hands, but it was pulled away quickly and raised out of his reach. "Father, don't you want to..."

"No." Monsieur Destler managed to say. Gustave's outstretched arm dropped to his side. Monsieur Destler took two large steps away from his child. "I... I don't want to do anything with you."

"But I thought..." Gustave started, stepping towards his father. Monsieur Destler held out both his hands, not wanting the child to move any closer. Gustave pressed forward, making his father back away. "Didn't you come to see me, father?"

"No." Monsieur Destler answered, looking once again to me for help. I pushed off the wall and followed the two down the hall, ready to intervene if need be. "Please stay back."

"Why?" Gustave asked, still moving toward his father. The child's fists were now clenched at his sides. "Why don't you want to see me?"

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, please." Monsieur Destler begged, finally bumping into the wall at the end of the hall. "Get him away from me."

This was far enough. "Gustave," I started, placing a hand on the child's shoulder. "He must be very busy. I am sure he'll..."

"No!" Gustave shouted, hitting my hand off his shoulder. He charged at his father, who raised his arms in defense. I was barely quick enough to grab hold of Gustave to keep him from hitting his father. Struggling in my arms, Gustave shouted at his father. "Why don't you want to see me?! You never come to see me! I hate you! I hate you so much! You don't love me!"

Monsieur Destler just sat there while I held his son back from attacking him. He did not speak, nor did he look up at his son. Gustave kept yelling and fighting to break from my arms. My grip on him did not loosen for a second and I prayed that he would calm down and not hurt anyone. Eventually, Gustave's yelling lessened and his struggling stopped. Hot tears fell down his cheeks and every so often, I would feel them hit my hands.

I was worried for a moment that something was wrong with Gustave's father. He had not moved nor made a sound since Gustave started his tantrum. "Monsieur Destler, are you alright?" I asked from where I kneeled behind Gustave. The man lifted his head and looked me in the eyes, his own full of tears. Some had fallen and I knew that things had gone too far. This was my fault and I prayed that I would not be let go because of it. Gustave collapsed against me, his tantrum having wiped him out completely. I sighed in relief, glad that it was over. "I will put him back in his room. Then we can talk, Monsieur Destler."

"That will not be necessary, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Monsieur Destler spoke quietly. My eyes widened and I feared what he was going to say next. He rose to his feet and looked down at me. "Put him in his room and you may have the day off."

"But didn't you have something..."

"I am going on a trip. I will not be back for... some time." He brushed himself off and straightened his vest. "Take care of Gustave while I am gone." He started for the stairs and I wondered if that was all he was going to tell me. _Was he going to tell me something else before all this happened?_ Looking over my shoulder, he was just reaching the stairs so I called out.

"Monsieur Destler!" The man stopped and turned around to look at me. He looked broken, his eyes no longer cold and his perfect posture was slightly slouched. I bit my lip nervously and changed what I was going to say at the last second. "I... I hope you enjoy your trip."

"Thank you." With that, Monsieur Destler descended the stairs, leaving the care of his son in my hands. Looking down at Gustave in my arms, I sighed. This confrontation was not healthy for either of the Destlers. Gustave's tantrums were never this violent and he had never aimed that violence at a person. Monsieur Destler was obviously shaken by his child's behavior. I was certain that he was not going on his trip for work related reasons, but to run from his child. There was nothing I could do to change what had happened, but I would do as Monsieur Destler asked. I would care for his son in his absence.

Scooping Gustave into my arms, I carried him to his room and put him in his nightclothes. I tucked him into his bed and prayed that when he woke, he would be back to his normal self.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/n: Sorry for being gone for so long! Here is the next chapter, though. I hope to update again soon. Until then, let me know what you think of this chapter in the reviews. On with the chapter!**

 ** _Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day._**

 **Chapter 13**

I shut Gustave's door behind me and leaned against the cool wood. The child was fast asleep from exhaustion, his face still stained with the tears of anger he shed. There was nothing else I could do but let him rest and be there for him when he woke. Monsieur Destler seemed oblivious to the feelings of others, especially his son's. He had dealt a large amount of pain to Gustave by avoiding him all these years. The occurrence this morning had made that pain all the worse. So much so that it resulted in one of the worst tantrums I had ever seen in my life.

I wished that there were more I could do to help the both of them. Bringing them together was one reason for my being here, as well as the opportunity to do something I loved. It had seemed like it would be an easy task, but I found it was anything but easy. This morning had proved it. I sighed and dropped my head into my hands. If I couldn't fix the rift between the family of two, I would regret it for the rest of my life.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau?" My head snapped up, finding Madame Blanchet standing a few feet away. Her sleeves were rolled up and she wore an apron. The woman's aged face showed that she was concerned, whether it was for me, her employer, or Gustave, I did not know. "Breakfast has been ready for a while. I understand that Gustave is resting now, but I won't let you go hungry."

"I've lost my appetite, Madame Blanchet." I half-lied. Food was one of the biggest comforts for me, but I do not think I could sit at the dining room table without Gustave. "I appreciate you coming up here though. You look like you were working hard before doing so."

The woman shook her head and clucked her tongue. "Child, some food will do you some good. Come," She held out her hand to me, waiting for me to take it. "I will walk you down and keep you company while you eat."

"I haven't even had time to bathe or change clothes, Madame..." I started, but she moved forward and took my hand. For an older woman, she had strength and easily pulled me along behind her. I stumbled a bit at first, but caught my footing and matched her pace. "Madame Blanchet, I need to be around when Gustave wakes up. Monsieur Destler asked me to care for him while he was gone and I plan to do just that."

"The child will be fine." Madame Blanchet said as we reached the bottom of the stairs. I wanted to argue that she was wrong, but could not bring myself to do so. She guided me to the dining room without speaking any more. I sat down in my usual spot, right next to where Gustave sat normally. The maid left me, went to the kitchen, and brought a tray with a couple slices of bread with jam and a cup of tea. Madame Blanchet took a seat across from me while I ate. I opened my mouth to ask her why she was doing this, but she shushed me.

When I finished, I waited for her as she took the tray back to the kitchens. She returned quickly and motioned for me to follow her. "Where are we going?" I asked. We had reached the stairs and she began to ascend.

"Monsieur Destler is not around, so I will disregard his rules just this once. There is something I believe you need to see, whether our employer wants you to or not." Madame Blanchet answered. We passed the second floor, where Gustave and I roomed, and I knew we were going to the third floor. "You must not tell Monsieur Destler that I brought you up here, nor the child. This floor is where Monsieur Destler lives and works. I am the only one besides Monsieur Khan and himself allowed up here."

We reached the third floor and she turned left. This floor was empty, with no paintings or furniture adorning the hall. It was plain compared to the rest of the house. The red and gold carpet was the only colorful thing in sight and yet, it was as plain as plain could be. Madame Blanchet led me down the hall and stopped in front of a door. She reached into a pocket hidden in the skirt of her dress, retrieving a key. The key fit perfectly in the lock on the door and with a turn of said piece of metal, the door was unlocked. Madame Blanchet opened the door and motioned for me to enter.

Upon entering, I was met with a cluttered room. Boxes were stacked around the room, some of them unable to hold all their contents neatly. Furniture had been pushed into one corner of the room. One could easily fix up a room with the seemingly forgotten furniture. Paintings with covers over them hung on the soft pink flowered walls and some were leaning against the boxes on the floor. Madame Blanchet followed me in, closing the door behind us. "This is... _was_ Monsieur Destler's wife's room."

I had been pulling at the hem of a dress that was spilling out of a box. When Madame Blanchet's words reached my ears, I pulled my hand away from the dress as if it had caught fire. I should have guessed that this had been Madame Destler's room as soon as I entered. It was a womanly room and could not have been Monsieur Destler's own. Turning to Madame Blanchet, I questioned her. "Why did you want to show me her room?"

"Because of this." Madame Blanchet walked over to a box and retrieved an envelope. She handed me the envelope and I opened it, wondering what was inside. I was surprised to find photographs. "Those are photographs of Madame Destler. Her name was Christine and she was very much in love with Monsieur Destler. It was a wedding gift from Monsieur Khan that the two would be photographed." Flipping through the photographs of Christine, I noticed how beautiful she was. Although the photos were only in black and white, her beauty was beyond color. Her hair was braided and hung over her shoulder, with flowers tucked into it. The backdrop of the photo was a wooded area and Gustave's mother sat upon a... I gasped, suddenly recognizing the photo. "What is it?"

"Gustave did a painting of me the other afternoon. It was beautiful. But I was in a place like these photographs. No, it was exactly like these photographs. He painted himself in my arms." I looked at the next few photographs, hoping to find a difference between them and the painting. There was none. Someone destroyed the painting and I had a good idea of who did it. This morning, Monsieur Destler's sudden appearance and unprovoked anger could not have been a coincidence. He must have seen the painting and destroyed it in his anger. How he would have seen it if he tried his best to avoid his son was beyond me. "Has he seen these, Madame Blanchet?"

"He has seen one." Madame Blanchet answered. "I gave him one, when I was caring for him between nannies. Monsieur Destler had me clean this room and I found the envelope along with a letter from Monsieur Khan." Taking one of the photos from my hands, she smiled softly. "He was in the middle of a tantrum and I handed him the photograph. 'Who is that?' he asked me, still with an angered look on his face. I told him it was his mother and that she'd be very upset to see him behaving like this. He calmed and asked if I could tell him more about her."

"I told him that she was kind and smart, as well as she was talented. The child learned that she had been a singer and was very much in love with his father. I told him to keep the photo secret and to think of it when he was upset. He still has it, but I know not where he keeps it. I know the boy's father carries one with him at all times." Madame Blanchet handed the photo back to me and I put it with the others. "Christine loved Gustave even before he was born, but Erik was hesitant to become attached to the babe growing within his wife. When Christine died after giving birth to Gustave, Erik blamed the child."

"That's absurd!" I exclaimed.

"My thoughts exactly. After his wife's funeral service, he realized that whether or not he wanted to, the child was part of Christine. He had not even named the boy until this realization. His heart had grown cold with the parting of his wife and feared he would not be able to care for the child as well as Christine would have. That is why Gustave has been raised by nannies his entire life. Monsieur Destler fears for his son to not be taken care of, as he should be. The rules he sets in place are in the best interest of Gustave."

"But Gustave is missing out on so much." I argued. "He does not know how to care for himself."

"I know." Madame Blanchet snapped. I shut my mouth and waited for her to continue. "Which is why I want to ask you to teach him. Teach him to care for himself. Monsieur Destler entrusted me to make sure you followed his rules in his absence. I will make sure you obey those that are most important, but I trust that some rule breaking will benefit Gustave."

"Madame Blanchet?" The woman looked up at me, her normally hardened look had softened. Reaching for one of her hands, I squeezed it gently. "Thank you. I will do my best." Putting the photos back into the envelope, I handed them to the maid. She tucked them back into the box, making sure it was back where it came from. We walked back into the hall and she locked the door behind us.

"You have been good for Gustave, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. While Monsieur Destler may not appreciate the hard work you put in with his child, I will always be grateful." Madame Blanchet tucked the keys back into her pocket and sighed. "If you should need anything else, you know you only have to ask. With Monsieur Destler being gone, I can get you whatever it is you need."

"Some sewing materials would be nice for passing time during Gustave's lessons." Madame Blanchet nodded.

"I will get some for you as soon as I have the time." The woman straightened her apron and pushed her sleeves up her arms. "Well, I have work to do. You'd better go clean up and then check on Gustave. Good day, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." The caring maid left me standing there in the hall, all the while I was thinking of where to start with Gustave. I did not even know what state he would be in upon waking. If he was as resilient as I believed him to be, it would be easy to get him to do things. On the other hand, if he was just the opposite, who knew how difficult things would be for him.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, I made my way to the stairs. This was going to be far more difficult than I expected. The only positive thing going for me right now was that I could ignore the rules while Monsieur Destler was gone. How long he would be away was unknown, but you could bet I would teach Gustave all I could about caring for himself in that time. First and foremost, I had to clean up the emotional mess Monsieur Destler had left his son in.

 **Erik's POV**

My head rested against the cool glass of the train car window as it bumped along the tracks to Granville. I was headed to the coast to a house I had owned as a place to escape to. A house where I could be by myself without distractions. The need to be alone was overwhelming and, though I was in a private car, I knew that there were people wondering who had taken up a car for themselves. It would be a much shorter trip by train and I was willing to deal with the nosy people aboard with me. The faster I was away from this place, the better.

Drumming my fingers against my knee, I breathed out through my mouth, causing the window to fog up. No matter how hard I tried, I could not get the image of Gustave's angered face out of my mind. Now I knew what Nadir meant when he said 'Gustave is just like you'. Our tempers were quite the same and that much was obvious this morning. My son had prepared to strike me, but was held back by Mademoiselle Clerisseau. If she had not been there, there would have been no knowing what could have happened.

Mademoiselle Clerisseau's strength surprised me. Not just when she restrained Gustave, but before that as well. The way that she had the courage to slam a door in my face was something I normally would not have tolerated. The woman's resolve to stand up to me was unexpected. I had expected her to crumble and fall, reduced to nothing but a blubbering mess. Yet she remained standing and had the audacity to let my son corner me.

Clenching my hands tightly, I cursed the woman in silence for what she had caused. If Gustave could not control himself under her watchful eye, then she was not doing her best. And I wanted nothing but the best for Gustave. Firing her would not be a simple task, as this morning had proven. The child was already attached to her and I had caused him pain that would not easily be forgiven. My skin crawled at the thought that Gustave viewed Vivienne as his mother. He would not understand, as I did, that his mother was far more superior than that... that...

The train car bumped suddenly, causing my head to hit against the window. The angle at which it hit resulted in my mask being knocked off. I cursed and picked up the blasted piece of clothing. Looking at it in my hands, I remembered the first time my Christine had seen what lay beneath it. Where others had screamed in disgust and fear, she reached out and cupped my marred skin. Her touch was gentle and loving, nothing like what I was accustomed to. I wept when she placed kisses over every sore and scar. She was an angel in every way possible and I prayed that she would be mine forever. If only I had known what damage a single child could do to the female body during birth, I could have prevented such a thing from happening.

Returning the mask to its rightful place, I gazed out the window once more, thinking of the sea. Christine had loved the sea, so that is where I would go. I hoped I would find comfort in the house by the sea, that there would be some remnant of her I could feel. As time had passed without her, I could no longer feel anything but anger and pain. My days were spent working to keep my mind from her memory, but now all I wanted was to have her near again. Sometimes I felt like she had been nothing but a delusion created by my mind. That our love was nothing more than the desires of my heart brought to life in a brilliant dream.

The sun was beginning to set and I watched the colored sky fade into the blackness of night. Sunsets had been one of Christine's favorite things to watch. She loved the bright colors and how they disappeared to reveal a starry sky. Reaching into my breast pocket, I retrieved the photo of my beloved angel. Her smile brought a melody to my mind and I could not help but sing to it.

 _I've seen so many sunsets in my life_

 _I should know everything there is worth knowing_

 _But since I saw your face I don't know where I am_

 _There's no map that can show me where I'm going_

 _The longer I live the more I wonder_

 _If I know anything at all_

 _If I've ever been in love, I can't recall_

 _The longer I live, the less I'm certain_

 _That I have all the answers right_

 _I'd give all my yesterdays to touch the light_

 _It's hard to make each moment count_

 _When you're alone_

 _Maybe that's all I need to know_

 _The longer I live without her near me_

 _The longer my empty years will be_

 _My world will not turn until you return to me_

 _My world will not turn until you return to me_

I tucked the photo back into my pocket and closed my eyes, relaxing into my seat. I would not get any sleep tonight, but I would imagine dreaming of Christine until the sun rose in the morning. For there was nothing I wanted more than to have her for just one more evening.

 **A/n: Song used in the chapter is The Longer I Live from Dracula the Musical, with slightly altered lyrics in order to fit the story better. I do not own the song.**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/n: I would like to apologize for my absence. For one: writer's block sucks. For two: I had to prep for color guard tryouts that happened the last two days. (I can't move my legs without them hurting.) For three: I procrastinate things longer than I should. Especially my writing. So here it is, without further ado.**

* * *

 ** _Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day._**

 **Chapter 14**

After I had washed up and changed into a clean dress, I did not know what to do, so I decided to write a letter to Jules. It had not occurred to me with all that had been going on, but I missed her terribly. I'm sure if I were not going all day without a break, I'd have realized this. Sitting down at my vanity, I retrieved a pen and a piece of parchment, and then began to write.

 _Dear Julianna,_

 _I apologize for not writing again sooner. While I do enjoy working here, I rarely get time to breathe. That might be changing here, though, and I hope I will be able to write more. I hope I have not made you worry due to my inability to write you. If so, then I hope you will forgive me and spare me from an extra-long letter from you._

 _Time has flown by so quickly. I know that it has only been a few weeks, but it feels like I arrived here only yesterday. There was barely any time for me to think about how different it felt to be on my own. There is very little time for me to really think of anything, but I suppose it is for the best. I miss you and our parents very much. My heart aches to be with you three once again, but I know that I have a duty to fulfill here. Said duty cannot be explained, per request of my employer._

 _All is well with me. I am taking care of myself and would be making mother quite proud if she could see me. However, she would not be impressed with me sleeping without changing into a nightgown. She'd probably lecture me, if she knew. I long for springtime. The snow has not melted here and I pray that it does soon. I want to see the world become bright and green instead of the dull gray and white it is now. The warmer weather would also be much appreciated._

 _How are you three doing? I ask, only because I know my old job helped pay for food and sometimes rent. If you need money, I would not mind sending some along with a letter. Actually, I will send some with this one. Don't worry about me not having enough. What I need is all paid for by my employer and I am making way more than I thought I would be. If mother and father need it for rent, give it to them for that. Otherwise, take mother with you to the marketplace and surprise father with a wonderful supper._

 _I could go on and on, but I do have work to do still. Please write soon and tell me of anything and everything new in your life. Let mother and father know that I love them. I love you as well, Jules. I pray that we will be able to see one another soon. I will write and let you know if I get the chance._

 _With all my love,_

 _Vivienne_

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau?" My head turned to see Gustave standing in the doorway. His hair was still damp and was sticking up in every direction possible. That wasn't what caught my eyes first. The child was looking at me with the most heartbreaking expression in his eyes. There was little to no emotion on his face and I knew that there was no one to blame but his father. How harmful could a child be to deserve to be treated like this? All he seems to want is to be close to his father, to have some semblance of a family. "I am hungry."

"Alright. Let's get you dressed and go down to the kitchen." I left the letter on the vanity, knowing I would come back to it later. Taking the boy's hand as I passed by him, we returned to his room. Gathering each needed item of clothing, I helped Gustave out of his nightclothes. As I helped him into his trousers, I looked up at him with a soft smile. "What do you want to do after you eat?" He shrugged his shoulders, not answering aloud. "Do you want to paint again?"

"No." he said. I helped him into his shirt next.

"Would you like to play with your toys?" I asked while buttoning up the shirt.

"No, I don't want to play with my toys." Gustave answered. I sighed and glanced away from him towards the window. Was there nothing he wanted to do? I was sure he would get upset if I kept questioning him. It was starting to snow lightly outside and I got a brilliant idea. I finished helping him dress and we made our way down to the kitchen. The child barely touched his food despite saying that he was hungry earlier. I sat patiently next to him, hoping that my idea would work well.

Once finished, I asked him to wait in the kitchen for me while I went upstairs. He had no idea what was in store for him. Upstairs, I grabbed my cloak and looked through Gustave's closet for something close to a coat. There was one in the far back of it and I hoped it would fit him. Throwing my cloak over my shoulders, I headed back downstairs. With Gustave's father gone and the ability to break rules, I could go forward with this plan. I was going to take Gustave outside. The snow was falling and I couldn't remember the last time I had played out in it. I prayed that Gustave would enjoy it as much as I had at his age.

When I returned to the kitchen, he was still sitting in his chair with his half-eaten meal in front of him. "Gustave." I said, gaining his attention. He pushed his chair back and then walked over to stand in front of me. Holding out his coat in front of him, he looked at me confused. "Let me put this on you."

"Why?" he asked. "I'm not cold."

"You will be if you go outside like you are now." Gustave frowned at my words. Sighing, I pushed the coat forward even more. "Come on, Gustave. Don't you ever want to go outside? The snow is so much fun. You can build a fort or a snowman. We could just sit and watch it fall, if you wanted to."

"I've never been outside." he said, though I could have guessed that. "I've never been allowed to."

"There is a first time for everything." Gustave looked down from me to his feet, obviously thinking what to decide. After a couple of seconds, he turned around and allowed me to slip the coat onto him. Taking his hand in mine before he could leave my side, I led him to the front of the building. On the way, we passed Madame Blanchet who flashed a subtle smile in my direction. I smiled back, knowing she would keep her word as long as I kept mine. We arrived at the front door and I opened it.

Gustave stepped out in front of me while I shut the door behind us. The small snowflakes I had seen earlier were now large ones, covering the ground in a fresh white blanket. Gustave looked warily around as if he expected something bad to happen while outside. A gust of wind blew some of the falling snow into our faces, causing Gustave to reel back and into me. Turning around, he looked up at me with a cross look. "I don't like this."

"It hasn't even been a minute, Gustave." I said. Reaching down, I took one of his hands into mine. "Here. I want to show you something."

I led the child off the porch and to the nearest snow patch. Letting go of his hand, I laid down in the snow. This earned me a look of confusion, but I had a point to make. I moved my arms up and down in the snow, while opening and closing my legs. When I finished, I stood up and brushed the snow off me. Looking down at my snow angel, I smiled. "Gustave, what does it look like?"

"I don't know." he answered.

"Look harder." Gustave huffed and looked at the outline I had left in the snow. He tilted his head one way, while squinting his eyes. Then he tilted his head the other way.

After a few more seconds, he gasped in realization. Looking up at me, he answered with excitement. "It looks like an angel!"

"It's a snow angel. I can show you how to make one, if you want."

"Show me!" he said. I directed him how to make one and it was so worth it when he stood up and looked at his little snow angel next to mine. There was joy in his eyes and he proceeded to make a few more around the front of the manor. Not wanting to stop there, I taught him how to make a snowman, which we made three of. I believe he was the one to initiate the snowball fight we had.

The afternoon passed quickly and before the two of us knew it, it was getting close to dinnertime. Both of us were cold and wet from our activities, so I decided it was time to go in. Gustave put up a bit of a fight, but as soon as I promised a treat once inside, he gave up. I towel dried his hair and got him into some dry clothes. Madame Blanchet was kind enough to watch him while I changed into a dry dress myself. The maid also kept an eye on him while I went to the kitchen to make Gustave his treat.

I realized that I had not made anything myself in the kitchen since before I arrived. Cooking was one thing I enjoyed helping my mother with. Once able, Jules started to help. We'd dance around our small kitchen, doing just about anything we could to prepare the food. I looked forward to making this treat, thinking of home while doing so. The cook was so helpful in providing me with the needed ingredients, even though she was busy with dinner. It took barely any time and when it was finished, I poured the end result into two cups, one for Gustave and one for myself.

I set the cups on a tray and carried it up to the playroom. Madame Blanchet was sitting in the chair there, watching Gustave play on the floor. She did not say anything to me, but I could tell that she was already thankful for what I had done. Once she left, I set the tray down and turned to find Gustave looking up at me expectantly.

"Here we are. My specialty: hot cocoa." Taking one of the cups, I handed it to him and watched him smell the warm liquid before taking a sip. His eyes lit up and he took another sip, causing me to laugh. "You don't like it, do you?"

"I do!" Gustave answered, his upper lip covered with the chocolatey drink. I took a sip from my own cup, enjoying the warmth. It had been a long time since I had made it, but it seemed to taste better than the last time I recalled. As it passed over my tongue, I could taste the cinnamon and slight hint of vanilla along with the prominence of the chocolate. The creaminess was just about right and I hoped I would be able to replicate it the next time I made hot cocoa.

Gustave finished his after a few minutes and handed me his cup. "May I have some more?"

"I don't want to spoil your dinner." The child pouted, but I did not budge. "You may have some after dinner, but only if you finish everything on your plate."

Dinner came and went. As promised, since Gustave finished his food, I got him some more of the sweet drink. We were in his playroom once again, as dinner was ready earlier than normal. Gustave went between his toys and his drink until it was all finished. By that time, he was starting to look sleepy. It had been a long day full of stress and then play. He tried to stay awake to play, but his eyes would shut only to shoot open again. That is when I decided it was time to get him into bed.

Practically carrying Gustave to his room, I set him on the edge of his bed so I could get his nightclothes. I had grabbed them and turned around, confused at what I found, or what I didn't find. Gustave was not on the bed where I had left him. Looking around the room, I wondered where he had gone. I had not heard him leave the room, whether to the bathing room or into the hall. As I came out of looking in his bathing room, I heard a quiet snore come from beneath his bed. Kneeling down, I looked there and, sure enough, there was Gustave.

I pulled him out and set him back on the bed. As I went to unbutton his shirt, I paused at the sight of something held loosely in his hand. As gentle as possible, I slid it from his grip and looked at it. Immediately, I knew what it was and was surprised I hadn't guessed that it was the photograph of his parents Madame Blanchet had given him. A younger and less grumpy Monsieur Destler was looking into the eyes of his wife. Just the corners of his lips were pulled up into a small smile, but I could see the adoration of Madame Destler in his gaze. Madame Destler had cupped his cheek and all the love she held was directed to her husband by her eyes. Her smile was big enough for the two of them. _No wonder Monsieur Destler was so affected by her..._

"That is my mother and father." I looked up from the photograph to Gustave, who had just woken up. He didn't look me in the eye, but I could tell he was upset by me having the picture. I was quick to hand it back to him, feeling like I had crossed some boundary. He climbed down off his bed and slid it underneath his bed. "I never met her, but sometimes I dream about her."

"Do you dream about your father too?" It had slipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

"Sometimes, but I don't care about him." Gustave said angrily. "He hates me."

"I don't think that's the case." I stated gently. "He's just... worried about you."

"Worried about me?" Gustave questioned.

"Yes. Worried." I repeated. "He doesn't want to lose you like he lost..."

"Like he lost my mother?"

"Exactly." I answered. I knew Gustave did not know what had happened to his mother, something for which I was glad. If he ever did find out, I would not want to see how he reacted. "He loves you so much, but doesn't know how to let that show because he's worried. What happened earlier is proof of that."

"What if we got my mother to come back?"

"Oh, Gustave." I cooed. "She's been gone a very long time."

"Then you can be my mother."

I could not speak after hearing Gustave's words. He did not know the meaning behind such words, but I did. While I thought Gustave was an amazing child, Monsieur Destler was a whole other story. He had good intentions by remaining distant and placing these rules. The man was a bit cynical and cold. A lot of it likely came from the death of Madame Destler as well as his own childhood. There had to be more to him, though. His wife had seen something in him that no one else had. Would anyone else ever be able to see the same thing? Could I see what she had seen in him? The thought frightened me, but before I could think more on it, Gustave gained my attention.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau?" he said, looking up at me. "You could be my mother."

"That's not how things work, Gustave." I answered softly. "You will understand things better in time. Come, let's get you into bed." I was quick to get him into his nightclothes and tucked in. As I turned to go, Gustave stopped me.

"You won't tell anyone about the photograph, will you?" he asked.

"Of course not."

"Not even my father?"

"Not even your father. I promise."

I continued to leave and as I shut the door behind me, I heard Gustave say two words that I had never heard him say before. "Thank you."

 **A/n: Hope ya'll enjoyed the chapter. Let me know in a lovely review: the best motivation to write more for you guys!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/n: A bit of a shorter chapter, but there is promise in it. Believe me. You're going to love it.**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 15**

 **Julianna's POV**

"Mother!" I called out as I shut the door behind me. Mother walked into view from the kitchen, frowning at me for raising my voice. I ducked my head down in embarrassment, but I had good reason to be so excited. Walking towards her, I held up the envelope addressed to me. "We got another letter from Viv."

Mother smiled and I joined her in the kitchen, opening the letter eagerly. It had been a couple weeks since her first letter, but I had not gone a moment without thinking of her. The house felt empty without my sister and nothing I did could make it feel like it had before she left. We all missed Vivienne and looked forward to the day she could come visit us. This letter was unexpected, but I hoped for it to have good news. I pulled the letter from the envelope only to gasp when some francs fell to the floor. Counting the money as I picked it up, I couldn't believe that Viv had sent us money. She would explain in the letter, so I read it aloud for mother to hear.

Folding the letter back up, I sniffled. Mother had walked over and wrapped an arm around me, crying quietly as well. "Mother, I miss her so much. I want to see her again, but I am sure she is happier there. Is that selfish of me?"

"Of course not, Jules." mother assured. "We all miss her, but she has always been her own person. She is our independent girl and there is nothing we can do to change that."

"I wish she could tell us where she is. Her employer is so secretive." The way Viv said she wasn't allowed to talk about certain things bothered me. What if she was in trouble? We did not know a single thing about her employer. If he were mistreating her, we would not know. "Can't she just tell us and keep it a secret?"

"Julianna, you know better." mother scolded. "Vivienne has to do her job and do it the way her employer has asked. I'm sure there are consequences if she does not do as asked."

"I hate it." I said under my breath. Looking down at the money in my hands, I wished I could just send it back to her. Money had been tight since Vivienne left, but we had managed well without her. She worried too much about us, as always, while we worried about her. My sister was stubborn and would likely send the money right back, so we might as well put it to use. Handing the money over to mother, I shrugged off my worry so that we could go get something to surprise father. I would respond to her when we got back. "Let's go to the marketplace, mother."

…

 **Erik's POV**

"Monsieur Destler, welcome." the head of staff at the beach house greeted. I brushed by her without a word, watching the other staff carry my belongings into the house. The woman came to stand by my side, looking up at me. "I do not recall receiving word of you coming, otherwise I would have thing ready for you. I hope..."

"I did not send word." The woman shut her mouth at my cold tone. "Now, see to it that my things are unpacked properly. When will dinner be ready?"

"Of course, monsieur." she said more meekly. "Dinner should be ready by six."

"Make it five-thirty." I demanded. "I will take my leave now. If there are any questions, wait to ask me until I return from my walk." I left the woman whose name I had long forgotten to do as I asked. Meanwhile, I was going to go take a walk along the shore.

Outside, it was snowing heavily and the wind was blowing. The staff worked quickly to move things inside due to the weather, but I wished to venture out into such harsh conditions. Bad weather had never stopped Christine from taking a walk along the beach when we arrived. I suppose it was usually warmer when we came to the beach house. If that hadn't been the case, I would have never allowed Christine to do so. The only thing not keeping me from staying inside was the need to keep her memory alive by doing as she did so long ago.

I followed the sound of the waves crashing on the shore. The snow on the ground was halfway up my calves, but I pressed onwards until I was standing with the ocean right in front of me. Grey waves capped with white foam crashed against the shore violently. Just as the crescendo of one wave faded, the next came as loud as the last. Above the ocean, the sky was a darker gray than the ocean and the white snow stood out against it. The wind whipped the hood of my cloak off and I closed my eyes as snowflakes bit at the unmasked half of my face. In my mind, I could see Christine walking with her feet in the water on a hot summer's day. Her chocolate curls pulled up onto the top of her head lazily, a few hanging down by her cheeks. The smile on her face was as bright as the sun in the sky above.

Suddenly, the vision of her was washed away by frigid water. I had not stood far enough from the water to remain safe. My daydream had been cut short when the unforgiving ocean had crashed down on me, dragging me away from the shore. Soaked and freezing cold, I fought to get back to the beach. I would not last long in these conditions. A wave crashed over me, pushing me under. The salty water stung my eyes and when I came back up, I coughed the awful stuff out of my lungs. I spun around, unable to remember which way the shore was. Before I could start in any direction, another wave pushed me under again and I did not remember coming back up.

…

 **Vivienne's POV**

I had sent out my letter to Jules the day after I wrote it. She did not respond until a few days later. There was not much news besides my family missing me. The money I had sent was spent on a ham and a decent bottle of wine. Jules spoke about how delicious everything was and that she was glad I had sent it. Father had been beyond surprised and Jules told me that he wanted her to thank me for him. Mother decided to write a little note to me, also thanking me for the money. What was left over she said she was going to save for a rainy day. She wrote that she wished he best of things for me her at the manor and I ended up tearing up while reading it.

The next couple of days with Gustave were some of the best we had together. He enjoyed going outside to play in the snow now, wanting to every chance he got. Even when it started to melt, he did not care if he was soaked to the bone afterwards. After his lessons, I had started to teach him new games to play inside the house. Going outside to play in the cold too much could end up giving him a cold, so I figured out activities for us to do inside. One of the days, we played hide-and-seek inside. Gustave was not hard to find at first, but after a while it became harder to find the child. I had to give up once or twice because he had been impossible to find. With all the fun things I was teaching Gustave, he seemed to have forgotten about the anger he held for his father. He also seemed to have forgotten about our conversation from the first evening his father was gone.

I hadn't forgotten the conversation. Gustave's innocence was a blessing and a curse. He did not know any better, having been sheltered his whole life. Maybe a mother was what he needed, but there was an impassable problem with that idea: his father. It was obvious his father had not let his wife go, even ten years after her being gone. He clung to the memories of her and did what he could to protect their child, Gustave being the closest thing to her he'd have. Not to mention that Monsieur Destler was not the most approachable person. He was short tempered and closed off to the world. There was no room in his heart for anyone but his late wife and his child. It would be a miracle if anyone could break through that wall of defense around his heart.

Then there was the suggestion of me becoming his mother. I may have been in the closest position, but I could not see myself there. There were so many things I still wanted to do before I settled down. Mother regretted marrying so quickly, although she was happy to have Jules and I as a result. She missed out on travelling, something I wanted to do. Mother had also mentioned wanting to learn how to sing opera, but had never gotten the chance to. I did not want to trap myself before I could spread my wings, like she had made the mistake of doing. Being here to care for Gustave would be the best thing I could do for him. When I was done here, I hoped the family of two would see one another differently. Until then, I planned to keep my word to Madame Blanchet. Gustave would be able to go out into the world prepared when the time came for him to do so.

It was a few more days until there was word from Gustave's father. Gustave had been practicing piano, playing a very beautiful piece of his own creation. I was sitting in the room with the sewing supplies Madame Blanchet had given me. There was a hole in one of Gustave's shirts and that was what I was mending when Madame Blanchet came rushing in. Gustave was still playing, his back turned to the two of us. Setting the shirt down, I gave the head maid a worried look. "What is it?" I whispered, not wanting to disrupt Gustave's practice.

"It is awful, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." she replied, handing me a letter. "Here. Read."

"Who is this from?" I asked, unfolding the paper.

"Monsieur Destler's head of staff at the house by the ocean." I read the letter, my hand flying to my mouth when I read what had Madame Blanchet all worried.

 _To the head of staff at Rosenmier Manor,_

 _There has been an incident involving our employer, Monsieur Destler. Upon his arrival, he took a walk down to the beach. We are unsure what exactly happened, but it is clear that Monsieur Destler had ended up in the frigid ocean. He was unconscious when found and is currently in the same state. A doctor has seen him and I was told that he is not in good condition. I am aware he has a son and would wish for him to be here in case we are dealing with a worst-case scenario. Please send word if such action shall be taken._

 _Head of staff at Summerview Estate,_

 _Mademoiselle Laura Barbier_

Looking up from the letter to Gustave, I felt an unshakable feeling of dread. He finished his piece and turned around, his mismatched eyes meeting mine. I hoped he could not tell that something was wrong, but between Madame Blanchet's and my own expression, he knew something was off. "Is something wrong, Mademoiselle Clerisseau?"

"Shall I send word?" Madame Blanchet asked me, making it easier to avoid Gustave's question. "Madame Barbier did make a good point."

"There is no need. We leave in the morning." I decided. Madame Blanchet nodded and I handed the letter back to her before gathering my sewing supplies. "Gustave, keep practicing. I have some things I need to take care of."

"What were you talking about?" Gustave questioned, not listening to a word I had just said. "Why do you look as if something bad has happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"Of course not, Gustave." I answered. "You haven't done anything wrong. Something has happened though and we have to leave."

"Where are we going?"

"To see your father."


	16. Chapter 16

**A/n: Here is the next chapter, my lovelies. It is longer to make up for the previous shorter chapter and my lack of updating quickly. I did quite enjoy writing this chapter, so I hope you will too.**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 16**

"I don't want to go see him." Gustave grumbled, watching me pack for him from his bed. The news had been shocking to Madame Blanchet and myself, but Gustave did not seem the least bit bothered. He was only bothered by having to leave to go see him. "He never comes to see me. Can't we just stay here?"

"Gustave, I have already told you that we were going. My mind hasn't changed since just a few minutes ago." Gustave huffed angrily and turned his head back to the toy in his hand. I had just finished folding the last of his clothes and closed the suitcase. Madame Blanchet had found one for him to use, since he hadn't one to use. Leaving it where it was next to his dresser, I walked over to sit next to him on the bed. "Gustave, he is your father and regardless of what you want to do, we're going to go see him. It will only be until he wakes."

"I hope he doesn't wake up." Gustave mumbled, thinking I hadn't heard. I heard all too well what he said.

"Don't you say that, young man." I scolded. "There is a chance he won't wake and then you won't have a father any more. You will be going to see him and you had better pray every day that he will come out of his comatose state. Now, I will have Madame Blanchet come and watch you while I pack my own bags."

"No need. I already packed for you." Madame Blanchet said from the open doorway. Looking over at her, I sent an appreciative glance. "The carriage is waiting for you out front. I packed a basket with some food for the trip. There are a couple blankets for the two of you. Frederick has some money so that you may stay in an inn along the way."

"Thank you, Madame Blanchet. You will let Gustave's tutors know of his absence, won't you?" The woman nodded. "Excellent. Come, Gustave." Gustave climbed off his bed and followed the two of us out of his room. I hoped he would perk up and not think so coldly about his father. He was lucky to have at least one parent. The children at the orphanage in Paris had none. Some didn't remember having parents at all while others did. Those that did always had wished to have more time with them. I did not want Gustave to remember his father as unloving. As we walked down the steps towards the carriage, I hoped that our trip would not be all for naught. Gustave climbed in while I turned and hugged Madame Blanchet. "I will send word of his condition and when we plan to return."

"Bless you, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Madame Blanchet whispered her worry for our employer evident in her shaky voice. "Travel safely."

The woman helped me into the carriage and shut the door behind me. A few moments later, the carriage lurched into motion and we were on our way to the ocean side home. Gustave sat opposite me, as far away from me as the sides of the carriage would allow. The child had his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl on his face, but there was an adventurous glow in his eyes. He would likely not admit it, but he was curious about what things he would see in the outside world. Smiling to myself about this, I glanced out the window as well to watch the scenery pass us by.

We drove for hours with few words passed between Gustave and myself. The only time he spoke was when he wanted something Madame Blanchet had packed for us. I gave him a sandwich and one of the blankets when it started to get cold in the cab. It was well past his bedtime and he was wide-awake, still in the same spot he was when we left. I sighed and looked over at him to speak. "Gustave, why don't you get some sleep? You don't want to stay up too much longer."

"I can't." he whined. "The carriage is too bumpy and this cushion is uncomfortable."

"Here," I said, patting the open spot next to me. "You can lay your head on my lap so you can be more comfortable. I can't help that the ride is bumpy, though."

Gustave, wrapped in his warm blanket, moved across to lay down next to me on the seat. He laid his head on top of my thighs and looked up at me. "Thank you, Mademoiselle Clerisseau."

"You're welcome, Gustave." Running a hand through his soft brown hair, I smiled. "Get some sleep. I will wake you in the morning." The child shut his eyes and it wasn't too much longer before he was snoring softly. Satisfied that he was finally asleep, I shut my own eyes and drifted off as well.

When I woke, the sun was barely coming up, its light crawling across the open countryside. The snow on the ground reflected the rays and set the entire horizon ablaze with hues of orange and pink. It was a brilliant sunrise and I captured the moment in mind so that it would last forever. Adjusting my position, I stopped abruptly when I felt an unfamiliar weight on my lap. In my half-wakened state, I had forgotten that Gustave had fallen asleep with his head resting on my legs. My breath hitched in my throat and I looked down at him, hoping I hadn't wakened him.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I found him still sleeping soundly. Relaxing back into the cushioned seat, I looked out the window to study our surroundings. Fredrick had driven through the night and I hoped we would come upon a town soon. It would be nice to stop and stretch our legs. We could spend the day wandering around and stay overnight before going on our way. I am sure Fredrick would not be able to drive two nights in a row. Gustave would also appreciate it. He had simply despised sitting in one place for too long, as we had yesterday. The child would not live through a full day of travelling.

Pulling on the cable, which attached to a bell by the driver's seat to alert them to stop, the carriage rolled to a stop at the edge of the road. Frederick climbed down and opened the door. "Is everything alright, mademoiselle?"

"Yes, Frederick." I answered. "When we get to the next town, I would like us to stop for the day. We will also be staying overnight at an inn. I take it you are already so very tired."

"I am miss." he replied. "I will place the carriage and horses in a stable and get us rooms at the inn. The next town should not be more than an hour and a half away. Shall we continue?"

"Of course, but first," I pointed to the basket of provisions and he handed it to me. I rummaged around inside and retrieved a small loaf of bread, some cheese, and an apple. "Take these. You must keep your strength up."

"Mademoiselle, I couldn't take..." Holding up my hand in a motion to stop, he did so.

"Take them." He nodded and thanked me, before shutting the door and returning to his position at the driver's seat. A few moments later, we were on our way again. Taking a few of the pieces of cheese from a folded napkin, I nibbled on them. I was hungry enough to eat everything in the basket, but I would wait until we reached the town. Gustave and I could try to find something to eat there so we could save what Madame Blanchet had packed for the road. I would also appreciate a nice cup of sweetened coffee and fresh baked fruit tarts.

Just as Frederick had told me, an hour and a half later we arrived in a small town. For such a small town, it was very busy place. There was a market place crowded with people buying or selling goods. Across from the market place was the inn we would be staying at and the stables. Just down the road were some apartments and a few longtime businesses. It was a quaint place and I would enjoy being able to stretch my legs in such a place. Gustave was still sleeping when Frederick pulled up in front of the inn, so I shook his shoulder gently to wake him.

"Gustave, wake up. We're going to take a break from travelling." The boy's eyes fluttered open and met mine lazily. He had seemed to have gotten better sleep than I did by the looks of it. A yawn escaped from his mouth and I smiled at the preciousness of the moment. "Good morning, child."

"Good morning, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." he responded, sitting up. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his arms and legs. Frederick opened the door at that moment, allowing the cold outside air to flood inside. Gustave yelped and pulled his discarded blanket back over him. "Why did you open the door?"

"I am sorry, young master." Frederick apologized, though he really shouldn't have had to. I would hold back from reprimanding the child as he had just woken up.

"Gustave, let me help you get your coat on and we can get out." I grabbed his coat off the other seat and held it up in front of him. He pouted, pulling the blanket tighter around him. "We can go get some warm breakfast and stretch our legs. There is a market place just across the way. Maybe we can find you something to entertain yourself while we're on the road."

"Okay." he relented. I was quick to put his coat on him so he wouldn't be cold. I adjusted my cloak and the two of us climbed out of the carriage. Frederick said he would get the rooms and meet us after taking care of the horses before going on his way.

"May I have one of your hands, Gustave?" I asked, not wanting to lose him in the crowd we would be walking through in the market place. He slipped one into mine and I led the way to the market place. Men and women crowded around the many stalls, looking over the wares and making purchases. Children played in a field beyond the stalls, laughing and running around with one another. Gustave pressed closer to me as I looked for a stall where we could grab some freshly baked food. I was sure he was a little overwhelmed but as long as he had my hand, he would be fine.

When at last I found a stall selling some fresh baked goods, I was met with the warm smile of a middle-age looking woman. She was balancing a bundled child on her hip and did not seem the least bit worn down by the bustle around her stall. "Good day, mademoiselle." she greeted. Her eyes found Gustave next to me and she smiled even wider. "And good day to you as well, young man."

"Good day." I replied and nudged Gustave forward. He looked up at me, panic in his eyes. He did not know what to do in this situation despite being taught all the manners in the world. I didn't blame him, though; as he had never been given a real chance to utilize them. "Gustave, greet the nice lady. You must practice your manners, remember?"

The child swallowed the lump that had risen in his throat and looked up at the stall owner. "G-good day, madame." He bowed tentatively and came back up, but did not look back at her.

"What a little charmer." the stall owner commented, laughing lightly. The child on her hip started to fuss and she began to bounce him up and down. "Anyways, what can I do for you two? Today our special is a buttery croissant filled with my secret recipe blackberry spread."

I had been eyeing the delicious looking special since we had walked up. My mind was set right there and then. "I will have the special then." The woman handed her child to an older looking woman, probably the child's grandmother, and placed one into a paper bag.

"And for you, young man?"

Gustave looked over the many options and eventually settled on an herb and cheese biscuit. The woman tossed in a small chocolate muffin when Gustave wasn't looking and I smiled at the gesture. She gave me the amount owed and I let go of Gustave's hand to pay her. Once paid, she handed me the paper bag with a bright smile. "Hope you and your son enjoy."

Before I could tell her that he wasn't my son, she was helping another customer. Sighing in defeat, I began to walk towards an area with seats and a lit fire for warmth so we could eat. It was not until I reached the area that I noticed something wrong. I had sat down in front of one of the fires and went to hand Gustave his biscuit, but quickly realized he was nowhere to be seen. Shoving the biscuit back into the bag, I looked back towards where I had come from. He was not there and I rose from the bench to go search for him. As I pressed through the crowd, my eyes looked every direction and I called his name multiple times.

How could I have forgotten to take his hand again? I had decided to not let go of it until we were out of the crowd, but had needed it to pay for our food. The townsfolk did not seem to mind or care as I frantically searched for Gustave. When I approached a stall to ask if the person running it had seen the child, they ignored me entirely. I even looked to the field where children were playing, but he was not there either. The longer I searched, the more I began to panic. I had looked everywhere when I decided to go back once again to the baked goods stall. The first time I had looked there, he was not there so I moved on. I wanted to be sure that he had not gone back there before going to find Frederick to get his help.

As I made my way over, the fear that I would not find him at all crept in. It had been my job to make sure nothing happened to him. We were on the way to see his father who had promised nothing good if something were to happen to his son. I had promised his father that I would take care of Gustave in his absence. Now I was facing breaking that promise and possibly getting myself fired. Not to mention the thought that Gustave was likely frightened to death. He had never been out on his own and in such a crowded place. Would he even know to ask help in finding his nanny? What if someone had taken him? It happened often in Paris, that a child would be snatched off the streets never to be seen again. If that happened to Gustave, I would never forgive myself.

I was nearly back to the stall where I had lost Gustave when I heard it: his laugh. My head snapped in the direction it had come from. It could have been anyone's laugh, so I waited until I heard it once again. Without waiting another moment, I made my way towards the bouts of laughter. Eventually, I broke through the throng of people in my way and breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of Gustave before me. He was sitting with a few children younger than him around a long wooden crate. Their laughs were joined by the quiet barking of Brittany puppies. Gustave was holding one in his lap while it licked at his face. The smile on his face was worth the panic I had just put myself through and I let my anger and worry slip away.

"Gustave," I called as I approached. The child beamed up at me, the puppy still attacking his face with affection. "Don't you want to eat? Why didn't you stick with me?"

Gustave picked the puppy up and turned it away from his face. "I'm sorry, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. I heard some children talking about the puppies and I wanted to go see them. I tried to tell you, but some people pushed me away from you. I hope you aren't upset with me."

"I am not upset." I said, kneeling down next to him. "I was worried though. What matters now is that I have found you. I think we should head back to the inn now. It looks like it is going to start snowing soon."

Gustave looked back down at the puppy in his lap. "Can we keep Puck?" Gustave asked, stroking the dog from his head down to his tail. "He likes me the best. That's what his owner told me."

"Gustave, I don't know..." I started, but Gustave interrupted.

"Please, Mademoiselle Clerisseau! I've always wanted a dog." Gustave gushed. "I promise that I'll be on my best behavior. I will pray every night that father wakes up. I'll... I'll not throw another tantrum ever again if I can keep little Puck."

"I..." My eyes met Gustave's and I could see just how much keeping the puppy meant to him. His words had also surprised me. He was willing to give up his bad behaviors for a dog. I knew that he would eventually go back to them, as children usually did after making such promises. There was also no saying what Gustave's father would think. Did he even like dogs? Had he even thought of getting Gustave a dog? What would he do if I said we could keep the dog? The list of unanswerable questions could go on forever, but right now, I was the one in charge. Gustave's father had passed the care of his child on to me. If I deemed it necessary for him to have a dog, there would be little Monsieur Destler could say against me. "Where is the owner, Gustave?"

 **A/n: If you do not know what Brittany puppies look like, I suggest you look it up. They are adorable! Until next chapter, my lovelies! Leave some love in the reviews!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/n: This chapter's difficulty to write mixed with my busy schedule are my only excuse for the long wait. I managed to finish this chapter and hope the next one won't be as difficult to write. Hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day**_

 **Chapter 17**

Little Puck, the puppy Gustave adored, would be waiting for us to pick up on our way home. The owner had agreed to care for him until then as long as I gave him the money right then. I did just that and I left with an exuberant Gustave in tow. He could not stop talking, something I was surprised was possible, about the canine friend he would have. There was no regretting my decision while he carried on about his dog as if it were the best moment of his life. I only hoped his father would not be cross with me for getting him the dog, but I would not worry about that until I had to.

We met up with Frederick and I wished I had thought to get him something from the market place. He showed us back to our rooms at the inn. Gustave and I shared one, while Frederick had his own down the hall. It was nice to be able to lay down on an actual bed. No being rattled around like a box of rocks and the sounds of travelling. Gustave seemed to enjoy being out of the carriage as much as I did. He took a good hour to just lay in his bed before he got bored and retrieved a book he had brought with him from his bag. For the rest of the day, we didn't leave our room except to eat.

The next morning came far too quickly for me to like. I was out of bed well before Gustave and had to practically drag him from his. We got some food for the road and were off before we knew it. Frederick said it would likely be another two days or so of travelling until we reached the coast. Gustave and I passed the time by going over his lessons as much as possible. It would not do well to let him forget what his tutors had taught. When we weren't reviewing, Gustave and I spoke of anything and everything. We told each other stories or would simply sit and enjoy the other's company. There was little else we could do, but I enjoyed spending time with the child.

After travelling for a few more days, we reached the coast. It had taken me by surprise, as I had never seen it before. When I did notice the water stretched out endlessly on the horizon, I pointed it out to Gustave. He pressed his face against the window and I laughed at his excitement. My excitement was more subtle, but I found myself looking out over the coastline just as much as Gustave. It was mesmerizing to see the waves rising up and down in the distance beneath the gray sky. Snow fell heavily and it never seemed to stop. I hoped that it would not hinder our travelling.

At last, we turned down a drive that went up a hill towards a quaint house with a barn. I did not even need to be told that this was our destination. Frederick stopped in front of the house and I had to wake Gustave, as it was close to midnight. We climbed out of the carriage and made our way up to the door. Raising the knocker, I knocked a few times and waited patiently. Seconds later, the door was opened and an exhausted looking woman greeted us. "What can I do for..." The woman trailed off as she noticed Gustave pressed against my side. "Oh! Forgive me, please, for not recognizing the master's own child. Come in out of the cold."

"Thank you." I said, leading Gustave into the home. It was warm inside and I was thankful that we didn't have to stand out in the cold longer than necessary. Frederick brought in our belongings before going to tend to the horses and carriage. The woman helped Gustave out of his coat and then lifted my cloak from my shoulders. After hanging them up, she turned around and took a deep breath. She seemed overwhelmed and I laid a hand on her upper arm. "Are you alright?"

"Just a little frazzled, that's all." she answered. "I will survive though." She let out another deep breath and frowned. "I have forgotten my manners already. I am Mademoiselle Barbier, head of the household."

"Vivienne Clerisseau." I returned. "I am Gustave's nanny."

"Then this must be Gustave." Mademoiselle Barbier said, looking to the child barely able to stand on his own. "Let's get you to bed, young man. I will show you where you'll be staying."

"Of course. Lead the way." We followed Mademoiselle Barbier further into the house. It had been decorated in a much simpler fashion than the manor. The walls were the color of sand and there were only a few blue and green accents here and the. Even the furniture was plainly colored, not that it mattered. It was still a lovely home regardless of its decor. Gustave and I would have to adjust to the different layout, but that was to be expected.

"Here we are." Mademoiselle Barbier opened the door and I ushered Gustave in past her. Behind us followed another maid that had carried our belongings. She set down Gustave's borrowed suitcase and Mademoiselle Barbier directed her to the room across the way. While she did that, I proceeded to get Gustave ready for bed. He was dead on his feet and I was planning to let him sleep in. As I tucked him into bed, Mademoiselle Barbier set about putting his clothes away.

"I could have done that." I said as she closed the door behind us once Gustave was settled in. "You've already done so much for Monsieur Destler. I couldn't imagine all that you've had to deal with since his accident."

"Nothing I couldn't handle. Besides, you've been travelling for days and must be exhausted. Putting the child's clothes away was the least I could do." Tucking a loose strand of black hair behind her ear, she smiled weakly. "I hope you don't mind that I also had a bath drawn for you."

"You're a godsend." I breathed, pulling the woman into my arms. She hugged me back and then I pulled back. "Thank you for sending for us when you did."

"It was my duty to do so." Mademoiselle Barbier smiled and showed me to my room across the hall. My belongings were already put away by the maid who had carried them inside. "I should let you know now that Master Destler is not doing any better. Things are as bleak as ever. He still hasn't awakened. Does..." The woman worried her lip, her tired eyes meeting mine. "Does Gustave know what could happen if his father doesn't wake up?"

"He is aware that his father could die." I informed the housekeeper. "That is why he is here. He has never left his home so this is quite new for him. If it had been up to him, he wouldn't have come at all."

"I don't understand." Mademoiselle Barbier frowned. "Doesn't he love his father?"

"His father has never given him a reason to." I said, holding back my disdain for the man. My feelings towards the man had nothing to do with her question. Those feelings would likely make her feel worse than she already did. "Monsieur Destler has not spoken let alone seen his son for years. The two are estranged. Their first encounter in forever was the reason for Monsieur Destler coming here. I would suggest not bringing it up to either of them."

"I see. Is there anything I could do to help them?" she asked, wringing her hands. "I can't stand the thought of them not having each other."

"I don't think there is much either of us can do. We just have to be there and let things happen themselves." I answered. "For now, you worry about your duties and carrying for Monsieur Destler. I'll continue mine with Gustave. You already have so much on your plate I could not ask you to care for him too."

"You are a blessing, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." The clock in the hall chimed one o'clock and Mademoiselle Barbier sighed. "I best let you take your bath and get to bed. Breakfast will be prepared once you are awake. Good night, Mademoiselle Clerisseau."

"Good night." With that, Mademoiselle Barbier hustled out of the room. A yawn pressed itself past my lips and I hurried into the bathing room so I could wash up and get some rest. The water was warm and eased my travel-tired muscles. If I got too comfortable, I'd likely fall asleep in the midst of bathing so I did not allow much time for relaxing. Once finished, I got out and dried off before getting into my nightgown and climbing into bed. I fell asleep within minutes of laying down.

The next morning, I awoke to Gustave patting my arm to wake me. He was still in his nightclothes and his hair defied gravity, sticking up at the most odd angles. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau, are you awake?" he asked quietly.

"I am now." I replied with a smile. Sitting up, I stretched and let out a yawn. Looking out the window, I noted that the sun was barely coming up and looked back to Gustave. "How long have you been up, Gustave?"

The ten-year old dropped his gaze from me to the ground. "I couldn't sleep." He sniffled, wiping his arm across his face. "Can we go home?"

"Oh, Gustave." I said, holding out a hand to the boy. He took it and I pulled him up onto the bed next to me, wrapping my arms around him. I understood his homesickness. It was his first time away from home. Leaving Paris to work for Monsieur Destler had been my first time away from home. It had taken a while to get into the groove of things at Rosenmier Manor. I was sure Gustave would be able to here as well. At least until his father came out of his unconscious state. "I'd love to take you back home, but we just arrived. We will leave as soon as your father is better, I promise. Until then," I cupped the child's chin and smiled down at him. "This will be your home. Do you understand?"

"I don't like it." Gustave grumbled under his breath, wiping away a few stray tears with the back of his hand. "But I understand."

"I am glad." I said, watching Gustave as he let out a yawn. Recalling that he hadn't slept at all, I let go of the child and scooted over in the bed. I grabbed the sheets and pulled them up and over him. "Now, you need to get some sleep. I am not going to get up until I know you're fast asleep, young man."

"But I'm not," _Yawn._ "Sleepy."

"Not at all?" Gustave smiled and laid his head down, shutting his eyes. A few minutes later, his eyes were starting to struggle to remain open. "Gustave, you must sleep."

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau?" he said, his drowsy gaze catching mine.

"Yes?" The child's voice was barely a whisper, but I heard his words loud and clear as his eyes shut and he fell asleep. I did not know how to respond to his sentence of three words. His words were full of innocence, yet I still found myself unsure of what to think. I could've guessed he'd come to love me, having been the only one to give him any attention willingly. He had already compared me to his mother, something that had done more harm than good to his relationship with his father. It would be best if I just ignored the child's words, but I realized that he had grown on me as I had on him. Tucking the sheets in around him, I sighed. "Sleep tight."

I left Gustave to sleep and left the room once I had dressed for the day. The house was mostly quiet except for the few staff that passed by me. Eventually, I came upon Mademoiselle Barbier who greeted me tiredly. "You're up early. Did you sleep well?"

"I slept well enough." I replied. "Have you rested at all since we arrived?"

"I couldn't bring myself to do so, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Brushing a loose strand of a hair out of her face that only fell back a moment later, she sighed. "It is not yours or Gustave's faults, of course. Your arrival has nothing to do with my inability to sleep. Come along." The head of the household motioned for me to follow her and I did. She led me up the stairs without a word. I had a feeling I knew where she was taking me and what the source of her insomnia was. We stopped outside a room and she opened the door for me, allowing me to enter.

An oil lamp sat on the nightstand next to the bed in this room. It illuminated the sickly pale skin of Monsieur Destler, as he laid there unmoving. The midnight blue covers were pulled up to his chin and made his complexion look even paler. If I had not known he was only in a comatose state, I would have mistaken him as dead. His face was lifeless, eyes shut and a neutral expression. It was then that I noticed his mask missing. From where I stood, it was obvious it was not present but I could not see what was so horrible that he wore a mask to hide it. Moving closer, I allowed myself to take in what he would never have willingly shown anyone.

The skin was bubbled, as if water had boiled beneath his skin and remained that way. There were only a handful of places where he appeared not to be scarred. His skin was splotched with red and almost translucent patches. Veins and arteries were visible beneath the clear patches of dermis. His nose was absent; a great hole in the middle of his face being what was left of it. The man's eyebrows were also missing. Upon closer inspection, his eyelashes were also gone. Around his closed eyes, you could see the sockets in which they sat.

I backed away, covering my mouth with a trembling hand to silence myself. My stomach flipped and my heart pounded with reckless abandon against my rib cage. His face was hardly a face at all. It was a mangled mess, something straight out of one's worst nightmares. He looked like a corpse, dead and unmoving. I was horrified and disgusted, but could not bring myself to move my eyes from the deformed face of Erik Destler. Though the feelings of horror and disgust were strong, I felt a deep sadness for the man. How could he carry on with such a burden? To think that he had been hiding his face since he was a child made my heart ache in my chest.

I once wished I had never heard the name Erik Destler. There was not a single day I could recall that I hadn't heard it whispered among the boutique's patrons. The things they said were often hard to believe, but none of them could compare to the real thing. His life was nothing like the life they believed he lived. If they knew the truth that I had come to discover, they would no longer speak of him. He would be a nobody to the world, something that he seemed to want deeply. I would as well if I had gone through half the things he had endured. Tears blurred my vision and I wiped them away before they could fall.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, are you alright?" Mademoiselle Barbier asked, making her presence known.

I turned to face her, taking deep breaths to calm myself. "Where is his mask?"

"I don't know. He must have lost it when he became unconscious." she answered. "Is it important that he has one?"

"Of course it is!" I snapped, regretting doing so when Mademoiselle Barbier flinched away from me. Going over to this armoire, I started to look through it hoping to find one. He had more than one, if I remembered correctly. "I apologize if you do not understand. He always wears a mask. It wouldn't be right for him to wake up without one." I found his black mask in a drawer inside the armoire and breathed a sigh of relief. Turning back around, I brought the mask and placed it over his face, tying the ribbon that held it on loosely. "There. All better."

I heard crying and knew I had upset Mademoiselle Barbier. She stood where I had left her, head buried in her hands. "I apologize, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. I should have known these things, but had never gotten the chance to ask Monsieur Destler. You don't think he'll be mad with me, do you?" I paced over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder in a comforting manner. She was stretching herself thin. So thin that I feared that she would start to do more harm than help to the household. I couldn't sit back and let her ruin her position, so I decided I would help her. "What am I going to do, Mademoiselle Clerisseau? Will he fire me?"

"Of course not, Mademoiselle Barbier." I replied. "We will keep your mistake a secret. In the meantime, I want you to take as much time off as you need to get well rested. You've obviously been neglecting your own care for Monsieur Destler's and the households. I can fill in for you until you are fit to return."

"I couldn't let you..." Mademoiselle Barbier started, but I cut her off.

"I am not going to let you deny yourself some rest. Gustave is not too much of a handful that I cannot perform my normal duties alongside yours." The woman nodded and gave in to my suggestion. We agreed that until she was good and rested, I would take up her responsibilities for the time being. It was the least I could do for the woman and I prayed that I had done the right thing by stepping in for her.


	18. Chapter 18

_**Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

* * *

 **A/n: I would like to apologize for my extended absence. On top of getting a part time job this summer, I started my first year of college. It has been a whirlwind of homework and flowers (as I work in a floral department at a local grocery store) and exhaustion for the past few months. There were times I could have written, but in all honesty I have had little to no inspiration to write. It's a struggle sometimes and I apologize for leaving you all hanging. This is a shorter chapter than I would have liked to have posted and I am uncertain if another will be up anytime soon, but would like you all to have it regardless.**

 **Chapter 18**

The next morning, I woke and got ready for the long day ahead of me. My sleep had been restless, tossing and turning for most of the night. Gustave had even come in once to say he'd like a glass of water, which I had to fetch. My robe had been the one amenity I had left at the manor and the sleeping house was colder here. I used my cloak instead and took as little time as possible to find Gustave a glass of water. My warm sheets were calling my name. Upon returning to my room with the glass of water, I found Gustave fast asleep under said sheets. It was just as likely that the child was having trouble sleeping in this new place as I was. I left the glass on the stand next to the bed and crawled into bed alongside Gustave.

Just as I was finishing pinning my hair up into a twist, someone knocked on my door. "Coming." I said as I pushed the last piece of hair into place and used a pin to keep it there. I crossed the room quietly so I wouldn't wake Gustave and opened the door. Mademoiselle Barbier stood there with a smile, but it was a tired smile. She didn't give me a chance to protest her being there and spoke.

"I couldn't just leave you to figure things out on your own. No one knows the household better than me." The woman motioned for me to step into the hall. I shut the door behind me and she was already walking down the hall. I caught up to her, falling into step to her left side. "Do try to keep up. One must always be on their toes when handling the workings of a home." For someone so overworked, I simply could not understand how she had energy this early in the morning. It took me at least a good fifteen minutes to even think of getting out of bed. Yet here she was, exhausted and still acting as if she had the sleep of a lifetime.

We passed through a set of swinging doors and my senses were hit with a wave of warm air and the scent of cooking food. Two people were already present in the cozy kitchen, a man and a boy no older than sixteen. The older of the two glanced up from the dough he was kneading, a smudge of flour on his shapely chin. His choppy-cut blonde hair was pulled back tightly. A few strands had slipped out and hung askew. His eyes landed on Mademoiselle Barbier and he shot a charming grin our way as we approached him. "Mademoiselle Barbier, what an honor for you to visit me this morning." He whistled sharply to the teen that was peeling potatoes. "Watch your hands, Victor. I don't want you cutting yourself again."

"Bastien, I'd like to introduce you to Vivienne Clerisseau. She is our young master's governess and will be stepping in for me for a short while. Mademoiselle Clerisseau, this is Bastien Thevenet our cook. If you should have any questions relating to meals, he is the one you need to speak to." Bastien smiled politely at me and then his gaze returned to the housekeeper next to me. The man was obviously enamored by Mademoiselle Barbier yet she seemed indifferent.

"You will be missed but I believe some time off will do you good." Bastien said, his smile faltering a little. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau, would you like a little taste of this morning's breakfast?"

The cook sent us on our way with some smoked bass on some bread smeared with cheese. It was delicious and I looked forward to the fruit tarts the man said he was working on. Mademoiselle Barbier was very thorough with her explanation of the duties I'd taken up. She had accounted for the fact that I would need to care for Gustave still. Some of the other staff would step up during that time. Most of what I was in charge of was making sure things were being done, as they were needed to be done, as well as caring for Monsieur Destler.

I worried about that task the most. It was not the most difficult thing to do, caring for an unconscious man. He would not remain unconscious forever, I hoped. Gustave would be left with no family as Madame Blanchet had informed me of. The thought of him being all alone in this world frightened me. Another thought, perhaps even more frightening than that, was it was likely I would be asked to care for Gustave until he could take care of himself. I don't even know why that thought made my heart sink into my stomach. He was not the terror others had made him out to be. All he needed was a firm yet caring hand to guide him. Perhaps I was just thinking too hard on it and decided to keep those thoughts for a later time.

At the end of her walk-through of duties, she told me that she was only going to be away for at most a week. If I needed her before then, Bastien knew where to find her. With all her information being passed along, she took her leave and I returned to my room to wake Gustave.

Once I had Gustave up and eating breakfast, I left to go care for his father. Bastien prepared a small bowl of broth for Monsieur Destler for meals. It was very little and Madame Barbier told me that I would likely not be able to feed it all to him. The state he was in made it very difficult to feed him and even broth was a struggle to give him. I took my time getting to his room and paused outside it. Why hadn't I realized this would be one of my duties? If I had, I wouldn't have offered my help even if it were the right thing to do. Shaking those thoughts from my head, I opened the door and entered the darkened room.

"Good morning, Monsieur Destler." I said, shutting the door behind me. He could not respond, but it made me feel better to talk even though he was unable. I walked over to his bedside and set the tray down carefully, as my hands were shaking. I let out a sigh and noted the curtains on either side of the back wall. "Shall I open the windows? It is a beautiful morning." I opened both sets of curtains and took in the snowy landscape with the ocean in the background. While the sun wasn't shining, it was a peaceful winter morning. I couldn't even begin to imagine what this place looked like during the warmer seasons, all lush and green.

I sighed and turned from the windows, returning to Monsieur Destler's bedside. Sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, I lifted the bowl of broth and lifted the spoon with a very small amount to his lips. I let it slip off the spoon slowly and was amazed when it was swallowed quickly. I thought for a moment about commenting aloud once again, but shook my head. I had already been silly enough and if he woke to me asking if he enjoyed the broth, I would resign from my position immediately. After a few more spoonful's, I set the broth down and dipped a cloth into the water basin next to the bed. Bringing it to Monsieur Destler's lips, I squeezed it so he could drink and then used it to wipe up any broth I had spilled on his still face.

I set the cloth back down and reached for the bowl only to stop just short of it. My head snapped down to look at Monsieur Destler, eyes wide. His mouth was moving and his words were almost silent. I leaned down to try to hear better and as soon as I did…he stopped. I frowned and reached for the bowl, picking it up again. As much as I hoped for that to be a sign he was getting better, I doubted it was likely. If it were, it would be a miracle to have him wake up so I wouldn't be stuck here talking to him when I wasn't heard whether he was aware or not.


	19. Chapter 19

_**Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

* * *

 **A/n: Hello! A new chapter for all of you beautiful readers! It is a slow going process but I will continue to write and update as much as I can.**

 **Chapter 19**

 _The world around me was spinning. All I could make out were blurs of color against the dark grey background and misshapen forms that could have been people or the demons that plagued my existence. Reaching out a hand weakly, I tried to steady my surroundings but was quickly knocked to the ground and a wave of nausea rolled through me. Closing my eyes was impossible; it was as if they were held open by an invisible source. Death would be more acceptable than the hellish world I was unable to escape. I could stand back up but my legs were tired and with the sickness I was feeling from all the spinning, if I stood I was certain I would vomit._

 _As I laid there, staring at the swirling storm above me something suddenly changed. The rapid spinning slowed to perhaps the pace of a waltz and I sat up. This was different from anything that had happened before. Needless to say, the spinning had never slowed and I recalled a time when it was harsh and battered at my weak body. It was strangely calm and I felt slightly anxious about the drastic change. I half expected it to start back up, even worse than before. It did not and I waited, wondering just what it was that changed to cause this to happen._

 _Out of the slowly turning mesh of colors, one of the humanely forms started slowly towards me. It was singing an unearthly note that put even Christine's voice to shame. Could it be my angel of music? It stopped and before I knew it, it was sitting next to me and lifting something to my mouth. I couldn't have pulled away even if I wanted to. Something warm and wet trickled against my lips and I immediately recognized the familiar taste of broth. Hunger was not something I had felt here until now and I greedily swallowed every spoonful. The figure turned away as if to leave and I wished to be able to cry out for it to not to. It only turned however and faced back towards me, lifting something else to my face. Cold water ran over my lips and that too was consumed as the figure washed my chin and neck from the broth that had not made it into my mouth._

" _What are you?" I managed to ask, my voice barely above a croaking whisper. The figure went rigid and I feared I had frightened it. It did not move and I spoke to it once more. "Save me. Can you take me from this place?" The figure seemed to shake its head and I felt the slight bit of hope I held float away from me. It rose from the ground next to me and as it started to walk away, the room began spinning again. I reached out towards the figure, wishing I could make it stay just a few moments longer. Before it melded back in with the others, it turned and looked back at me. A warm, comforting breeze wrapped around me and faded away as I lost sight of it._

…

Gustave trailed behind me as I finished my rounds 3 days later. The staff functioned very well on their own and I had very little to say except for them to keep up the good work. I did not understand why Mademoiselle Barbier was so exhausted if this were all she had to deal with. Maybe she simply didn't have enough faith in these people. I would have to be sure to tell her that they were hard working and exceptional at handling their work if things kept going as they were.

"I have nothing to do, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Gustave whined as he followed me into my room. He had tired of the few things I had packed for him to spend his time with. I should have thought to pack his schoolbooks so that he could spend some time doing something educational. The curtains were drawn and it was snowing lightly outside. Tugging on my sleeve, I looked down to the child and gave him a reprimanding look.

"What do you want to do?" I questioned, knowing just what he would say.

"I don't know." Jules would say the very same thing to me as a child. The likeness between her and Gustave made me miss her just that much. I would have to write her and let her know what was going on, even if it wasn't in specific terms. If she wrote me, I hoped Madame Blanchet would forward the letters here for me. I couldn't have my sister worrying about me too much. She'd come looking for me then.

"Do you want to go out and play in the snow?" Gustave's eyes lit up and he nodded his head excitedly. I laughed at the action and told him to go grab his coat, watching him as he ran out of the room to fetch it. Retrieving the heavy cloak Monsieur Destler had given me, I put it on over my shoulders, and left the room to meet up with Gustave. I helped him into his coat and gave him a pair of my own mittens to keep his hands warm while we played in the snow.

The air here smelled of salt and was crisp and cold. Fat snowflakes drifted slowly from the grey clouds, floating gently on the slight breeze. It was peaceful out here by the ocean and I knew that I would miss it when we returned to Rosenmier Manor. Gustave seemed to enjoy himself here as well. He was a building a snowman a little ways from the bench under a barren tree I had uncovered from the snow. He was so focused on making the snowman that I couldn't help but smile while keeping an eye on me.

Past him was the side of the house and I could see the room where Gustave's father was. I realized then that I had not taken Gustave to see him yet. Perhaps after he was done playing we would do that. His father couldn't push him away now and I hoped Gustave wouldn't do the same to him. Forgiveness never comes easy, especially when you feel you have been terribly wronged. I could see that being a possibility with Gustave, but I promised myself that I would be persistent if need be. This broken family would be brought together one way or another, even if it proves to be the hardest challenge I face.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau! Look!" Gustave pointed to a ship sailing off in the distance. "Where do you think it is going?"

"I don't know." I answered earnestly. "It is probably a trading ship, however it could be…" I paused dramatically and Gustave looked to me, his eyes urging me to go on. Papa would tell Jules and I tales of swashbuckling pirates on the high seas. They were merciless fiends who pillaged and plundered treasure from other ships and kingdoms to bury where they could never be found unless you had the map. It was likely a trading ship, but for the enjoyment of Gustave, I would play a little make-believe. "It could be a pirate ship."

Gustave's eyes widened and he looked back to the ship. "A pirate ship? Do you really think so?"

"Mademoiselle Barbier told me that the house was taken over by pirates one very cold winter. They were all so cold and saw the house on the distant shore, knowing that it would be a good place to rest and get warm." Gustave was hooked and I continued my made up story. "They dropped anchor just offshore and came in row boats, 10 men to a boat. There were thirty of them and they stormed the house, pillaging the kitchen of its delicious hot food and the rooms of their cozy blankets."

"What if it is the pirate ship?" Gustave asked. "Do you think it will come here again?"

"I do not think so. Monsieur Thevenet scared them off with some horrendous soup." Gustave laughed and then watched the ship sail by for a bit longer before returning to his snowman. When the wind picked up and the snow fell harder, I decided it was time to go in. Gustave's snowman now had a pirate's hat shaped atop his head, an ode to the tail of how the pirates took over the house. I'm glad my story was a hit and I was certain Gustave would feel like this place was at least a little bit more exciting because of it.

Once inside, I removed Gustave's coat and his boots by the door. He squealed upon feeling cold hardwood floor under his feet. I scooped him up after I had removed my own, leaving them by the door to be taken care of later, and took the two of us to his room to put some other shoes on his feet. He followed me to my room, sitting in the middle of my bed. I was also putting some shoes on to wear around the house. In the rush to pack, I had forgotten my old fur lined boots at home in Paris. The pair of boots I had were borrowed from Madame Barbier and were almost too big for me. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau, I want hot chocolate!" Gustave exclaimed, bouncing up and down on the mattress. I had created a monster by introducing him to hot chocolate, an adorable one however. I was still pretty cold from being outside and supper was quite a ways off yet. Hot chocolate was a decent idea so Gustave and I headed to the kitchen.

Monsieur Thevenet was kind to let me use his kitchen and make some, as long as there was enough for him as well. While I went about making the delicious chocolatey treat, Gustave sat next to Monsieur Thevenet at a small table that was dusted with flour. I nearly lost myself in laughter when Gustave asked the cook about the pirates and how his soup scared them off. The man looked to me, raising an eyebrow inquisitively, and I smiled sheepishly back. I was quite surprised when he played along and told a very convincing story about how his soup ran off all the pirates on the French coast. The cook had just finished showing Gustave how to make a pirate hat out of a napkin when I finished making the hot chocolate. I served a cup for the unbelievably-good-with-children Monsieur Thevenet. He thanked me for the warm treat and I picked up the tray where I had put three other glasses of the hot chocolate and a spoon.

"Come along, Gustave." The child, with his napkin pirate hat, ran out the kitchen door and I followed thanking Monsieur Thevenet. Gustave was waiting outside, his eyes locking on the tray in my hands. He reached for it, but I pulled it from his reach. "Not yet. We're going to go drink it with your father."

Gustave's face fell into a frown and he crossed his arms over his chest. "Can't we drink it with Monsieur Thevenet instead? I don't want to see my father." I shook my head no and walked past Gustave, who followed if only for the treat I had made us.

"Monsieur Thevenet has to start supper soon and he was kind enough to let us use the kitchen. We shouldn't bother him now." I stopped outside the door to Monsieur Destler's room. "Now, I want you to behave yourself Gustave. Your father is very ill and you will treat him as such." Opening the door, I allowed Gustave to walk in and I followed behind. Setting the tray down on the nightstand next to Monsieur Destler's bed, I turned to Gustave who had not inched from just inside the door. I held out the glass of hot chocolate towards him and he shuffled his feet uncomfortably in place.

"Where am I to sit?" he asked. I pointed to a chair in the corner of the room.

"Bring it over here so you can sit next to him." I directed softly. Gustave begrudgingly did so and I handed him his glass of hot chocolate. Sitting on the edge of the bed next to his father, I smiled at Gustave. "There we are. That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

He swallowed the first sip of his treat and shrugged. "I guess it wasn't." He looked at his father as if he would jump out of the covers and frighten him. "Is he asleep?"

"In a sense. It's a very deep sleep because he is injured. He probably won't wake up for… I don't know how long it could be." I took a sip of my own hot chocolate, hoping it would drive away the realization that Gustave could be without any family if the worst happened.

"Do you think he will wake up today?"

"Probably not, Gustave."

"What about tomorrow?"

"Gustave, I don't know." I answered, sharper than I intended. Gustave looked down into the hot chocolate in his glass and I sighed out of a mixture of frustration and guilt. "I don't know when he'll wake up, but I pray every night that he will. He is the only family you have, Gustave. You should too."

Gustave said nothing in response, so I set my glass down and picked up the one I had filled only halfway for Monsieur Destler. Using the spoon, I picked some up, blowing on it even though it was probably already cooled enough, and brought it to his lips. It ran off the spoon and like the many times before this, it went down easy. I didn't even know if Monsieur Destler even liked chocolate, but he couldn't protest if he didn't. I went to get more on the spoon and I heard a cough. My head snapped up, immediately worried that I had given Monsieur Destler too much at one time and he was choking on the hot chocolate. He coughed a couple more times and then stopped, ceasing my panic.

"Monsieur Destler," I said, laying a hand on his shoulder, softly shaking it. "Are you alright? Can you hear me?" He took a shaky breath and his eyes snapped open, the mismatched orbs looking right at me.


	20. Chapter 20

_**Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

* * *

 **A/n: Good day, dearest readers. Have another chapter! It was a tough one to write which is why it is being posted now rather than a week or so ago. I also have a bit more time with school coming to an end for Thanksgiving break. I can't wait until the semester is done. Christmas time inspires me so I hope I will have more for you then. Enjoy!**

 **Erik's POV**

 _I was tired. So very tired. The wind was so harsh and I could barely see at all anymore. Heat like the flames of hell burned my skin and I was powerless to do anything. All of my strength had left me ages ago, at least that is what it felt like. There was no calendar here, no time. It was an empty, timeless, hellish void where I knew I would die. There was no doubt in my mind that this is where I would meet my untimely end. It had only ever seemed hopeful that I would not die when the figure came._

 _The figure: she came from the darkness yet brought light with her. She never spoke, but her actions were the sweetest of words to me. Stronger than any poem or lyric I could ever write. Everything about her, as I knew no man could ever hold the gentleness of this woman, was comforting. I longed for her in her absence and prayed for her to never leave when she came. It was as if this whole world revolved around her because it was only when she came and went that everything changed._

 _The heat was suddenly blistering and I looked up to see a swirling wall of flames. I heard the cries of a woman and a terrible screaming from within the vortex. Two shadows formed in the flames and even before they stepped out of the fire, I knew who they were. They were the only figures I had ever recognized in this place and I knew that nothing would keep them from doing what they wished here._

" _Mon dieu!" the heathen screeched, falling into the arms of her counterpart and proceeded to sob. The devil she clung to met my gaze and I found I could no longer look away. This was the worst of my nightmares and I knew that I stood no chance of waking. Not in this world or the next. This memory would forever plague my dreams, my thoughts, my whole life. "He is hideous, Ludovic. Our son, our poor boy. What happened to him in there? Why did it have to be him?"_

" _He is abhorrent." I flinched with every syllable of the word my father had described me as so many years ago. The pair of fiery demons were everything I remembered my parents to be and, in this place, they seemed even viler then when I was child. "What a disgusting creature." The flames burned hotter and hotter. "He is no son of mine." The heat was so intense that I felt blisters starting to form on my skin. The next words out of his mouth would kill me. It would end this. It would end everything. I waited for them to leave his mouth, "Devil's…"_

 _A wind stronger than any other swept down from above, pushing the walls of fire and the demonic forms of my parents into the darkness. It swirled around me and filled my lungs, as if breathing life back into me. It caressed my mask-less cheeks and it took shape. My angel, my beautiful songbird, stared deeply into my eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but I was incapable. "Shhh, my love." her voice echoed around me and inside my mind. "You must wake now. You must get back to our son." I shook my head as the cool wind that formed her body lifted me off the ground. "Non, Erik. If you stay, you may never wake again." I gave her the most pleading look, a look that screamed I wanted to stay with her forever—even if it meant never leaving this place again. This was all I needed._ _ **She**_ _was all I needed. "I can no longer stay. I have done all I can and I could not let you remain here forever. Goodbye, Erik." Christine leaned down and pressed her lips against mine. She pulled away and I wished I was able to pull her to me, but I could not move. "Tell our son he is loved."_

My eyes shot open as I gasped for air, my lungs aching as if they had a heavy weight atop them. Wave after wave of my senses hit me. The bright light shining through the uncovered window, the heavy blanket atop me, the taste of… chocolate? "Monsieur Destler, you're awake." Mademoiselle Clerisseau's voice crashed against my eardrums and I sat up so I could hang over the bed and vomit from the intense nausea caused by the overload of my senses. What was she doing here? Where was I? Why do I feel like I am missing something here? It was all so confusing, but one thing was clear: I wanted to be alone as soon as I could speak. When I finished ridding my stomach of its contents, I sat up slowly and turned to the prying witch I had hired to care for my son. "Get out."

…

 **Vivienne's POV**

"Monsieur Destler, you're awake." I said, barely believing the words coming from my mouth. What were the odds of him waking up right then, if at all? It was all so hard to believe. It had been just over a week since he fell into a coma and here he was awake and… not as well as he could have been, but awake. Just moments after waking Monsieur Destler sat up suddenly and attempted to move from his bed, but only managed to lean over the side of it and vomited on the floor. Behind me, I heard Gustave say a quiet utterance of disgust. When his father stopped retching, he turned to me after sitting up with a glare that would have frozen even the hottest of flames.

"Get out." he seethed, through clenched teeth and his pallored face starting to tint red. I stood up from his bedside and took a step back, if only to give him some space. He was likely embarrassed from emptying the contents of his stomach in front of an audience of two. "Get out now!" the man snapped, causing me to jump. "How dare you come here!"

"Monsieur Destler, calm yourself!" I snapped back. "You've just woken from a coma, sir. The only reason I am here was because Mademoiselle Barbier sent for Gustave when you fell unconscious." Monsieur Destler's angered face fell as I stepped to the side so he could see his son sitting there. Gustave was staring down into his likely empty cup and seemed to not want to look at his father. Monsieur Destler turned away and spoke softly, a drastic difference to what he had done a few moments before.

"Just go. Take him with you." The eerily calm man groaned, as if in pain, clutching the sides of his head. "Get my head of house to send for the doctor."

"I'll send for her at once." I headed for the door, motioning for Gustave to leave as well.

"What?" I stopped and turned around, realizing that I had not told him of Mademoiselle Barbier's small break, that I was in charge until she returned. "What do you mean 'send for her'?"

"Monsieur Destler, she was running herself rampant with your sudden arrival. You weren't going on a planned trip and then you got injured." I explained, dreading what I would have to tell him next. He was not in a good mood and the last time we saw one another, we hadn't exactly ended on the best note. "I took over her duties so she could have a break. She'd be back in three days, but I can send for her now. It would not be a problem at all to do so."

"It is a problem, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Monsieur Destler's voice dripped with venom. He was sitting up, but it was apparent he could not move from his bed quite yet. His strength escaped him, but I was certain if he could, he would rise out of the sheets and tower menacingly over me. "You have forgotten your place. It is not in your duties to send my employees off on a holiday. You have crossed the bounds that I set in place for me and I promise it will not go unpunished."

The shattering of glass caused me to jump and I whipped my head to where Gustave sat in his chair still. However, the glass in his hand was in pieces on the hard dark wood flooring along with what was left of his hot chocolate. His fists were clenched and he glared at his father with such an intensity that if I had any doubt that these two were alike, that doubt would vanish. "You will not punish Mademoiselle Clerisseau!" The defiance in the child's voice was shocking and I readied myself to step in if need be. "Do you hear me?! If you do anything to Mademoiselle Clerisseau, I will hate you forever."

Gustave's father was speechless, yet again. It was very similar to how he had reacted to Gustave before he left Rosenmier. He looked to me and, without saying anything, I knew he wanted us to go. It would not do well for Gustave to say anything else to his father lest he continue to further the gap between them. "Come along, Gustave." I said, laying a hand on his shoulder and pushing him towards the door. "We should leave. Your father may want to rest. I also need to have someone come clean up the mess you made." Gustave walked to the door while I gathered the tray with what remained of mine and Monsieur Destler's hot chocolate. I ushered Gustave out of the room and paused in the doorway to look back at Monsieur Destler. He had laid back down and was staring up at the ceiling. "Monsieur Destler," He looked to me and I couldn't help but feel guilty for allowing Gustave to say something like that. "I… I apologize for Gustave's behavior. I will make sure it won't happen again."

He said nothing and then looked back up at the ceiling. _I truly am sorry._ Shutting the door behind me as I stepped into the hall, I noticed Gustave had left. He had probably ran off to his room and I hoped he wasn't too bothered by his father threatening to send me away. I was one of the only people in his life that he allowed to get close to him. Tearing me away from him would be the last brick in the wall between the child and his father. I felt a bit of sadness at the thought of having to leave Gustave. Maybe I was getting too close to the child. Nevertheless, it would not do me any good to think of such things. They were unlikely to happen and there were more pressing matters at hand, such as getting the doctor for Monsieur Destler and his head of house.


	21. Chapter 21

**A/n: What a crazy few months! It's been so long since I've updated. School and work sucked a lot out of me. I lost sight of my goals for this story as well as inspiration and it's taken me awhile to find myself writing like I want to. I apologize for leaving you all waiting so long. I also feel that some changes need to happen for me to keep writing on a more consistent basis. I'm a reader myself and a chapter every couple months is absurd to me too. Suggestions are appreciated. Anywhoozles, I hope that at least some of you are still here. Enjoy the chapter.**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 21**

Mademoiselle Barbier came to see me after she had returned with the local physician. He was still attending to Erik when she knocked on my door. The woman looked much more at ease thanks to her time off, but there was yet a look of worry in her eyes. "I apologize for the way Monsieur Destler…" she had started only for me to cut her off.

"Mademoiselle Barbier, you have no need to apologize for that fickle man." It was true. She was not responsible for Monsieur Destler's actions. If he wanted to apologize, which I highly doubted, he would. That seemed below him, especially since he believed what I had done for his head of house was out of line. Fiddling with one of my sleeves, I sighed and plopped down onto the edge of my bed. "It was my own doing, if anyone's."

"That is not true." Mademoiselle Barbier argued as she walked over in front of me. I looked up at her, my expression one of disbelief. "You are a godsend, mademoiselle. I don't even know how to put into words how thankful I am for you and not just simply because you've helped me." The woman leaned down and grasped my hands in hers gently. "Never in my life have I met someone so devoted to such a broken family. Monsieur Thevenet told me of what you have done, for both the young master and his father, these past few days."

"I don't know how much longer Monsieur Destler will keep me around, Mademoiselle Barbier." I sighed, pulling my hands from hers to bury my face in them. "He was so furious with me and Gustave has done nothing but grow more and more attached to me in a way that makes his father believe he sees me as a mother figure. Gustave was the one to shatter that cup I am sure you saw in Monsieur Destler's room. He threw it to the ground and threatened to never love his father if I was sent away."

"A broken cup and such a threat is nothing, coming from a child." the head of house chimed in.

"The way Monsieur Destler reacted makes me think otherwise." I recalled the piteous look he had given me back at Rosenmier Manor before he left for here and the one earlier. "He loves his son, that much is clear, yet he refuses to have anything to do with him. When I step in, it just makes things worse. How much longer will he take Gustave's threats seriously? I fear that when he no longer does, I will have to go and the two of them would be worse off than before."

"You mustn't give up, Vivienne." Mademoiselle Barbier sat down next to me and rested an arm over my shoulders in a comforting gesture. "If there is anyone that could bring the two together, it is you. These things take time. I am sure you have made more progress than anyone has in the short time you have been with the Destlers. Don't lose heart." I looked up at the woman, feeling thankful that she was also part of the Destlers' lives. She gave a small smile and I could not help but give her one back myself. "The physician shouldn't be too much longer with Monsieur Destler. I should probably go wait to see if he will need anything."

"Thank you, Mademoiselle Bar-"

"You may call me Anthea."

"Thank you Anthea." I said, glad I had another person who believed that what I was doing here was good.

"Thank you too, Vivienne. Goodnight." She left the room and I rose from the edge of my bed. Gustave had not come to knock on my door to tell me goodnight yet. In the rush of things, I had almost forgotten that the child was still learning to take care of himself. He probably was in his room, still in his play clothes from earlier. It was best that I go and make sure he was alright.

I made my way to his room and knocked softly on the door. "Gustave?" I asked through the door, unsure if he was even in there. There was a shuffling of feet on the wood floor inside and I smiled sadly, knowing well that he was in his room. "Gustave, may I come in?" I heard a soft 'yes' and pushed the door open. Gustave was nowhere in sight, but I noticed the child-shaped lump beneath the covers on his bed. I walked over and sat down next to it.

"Gustave, where are you?" I questioned playfully, gazing down at the lump next to me. "I thought I heard you in here, but maybe it was a ghost. I wonder where he could have gotten off to."

"Don't be stupid. I'm right here." Gustave snapped quietly at me. Perhaps he was more upset than I had thought.

"Then why don't you come out from beneath your covers so I can talk to you?" I suggested. "I do not want to talk to a ghost." It took him a minute or so, but he eventually pulled back the covers and peered up at me. His eyes were red and puffy, with dried trails of tears on his cheeks. "Oh dear… Gustave, what is the matter?"

"I thought papa would send you away." he said, sniffling whilst running the back of his hand over his nose. "You don't have to leave, do you? Is that why you're here?"

"I am not going anywhere." I answered. "Come here." I said, reaching out a hand for him to take. He took it and I pulled him closer into my arms. He leaned his head against my arm and I ran a hand through his hair. "It is alright. I won't be leaving as long as I need to be here for you. You mean a lot to me, Gustave. You also mean a lot to your father. He wouldn't send me away because he knows you need to be taken care of."

"It sounded like he really would send you away, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." Gustave whispered, one of his hands balling up in the skirt of my dress. Looking up at me with more tears in his eyes, he continued. "He's terrible for wanting to send you away. If you go, I am going with you."

"You can't do that Gustave. You can't do that to your father." The child was trembling against me and I wished he could understand like I did. "Despite what you think, he loves you so much Gustave. I have told you that before. He-" I paused, wondering if what I planned to say next was the best thing to say. Maybe Gustave could understand. He was a bright child. I continued, praying that he would understand. "He thinks that you love me more than him, that you would leave with me if you could. That hurts him deeply, Gustave. More than you may be able to understand."

"He really thinks that?" Gustave asked, his sniffling slowing some.

"I believe he does. It is sort of how you are afraid that I would leave." I said, hoping that connection would help the child to understand. The clock down the hall chimed 9 o'clock. It was Gustave's bedtime. With him struggling to sleep the last couple of nights, it was probably a good idea to get him to go to sleep. "Let's get you ready for bed, alright?"

Gustave nodded silently. He had not said anything as to what I had said, but I could tell he was thinking about it. I'm also sure he was exhausted from the day's events. I retrieved his nightclothes and was surprised when he pulled them from my hands and began to undress himself and put them on. I stood back and watched, finding myself so proud of this precious ten year old. Before he could crawl back into bed, I pulled him into a tight hug. "Goodnight, Gustave. I will see you in the morning."

"Goodnight, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." he said, a yawn punctuating his sentence. I left and he crawled into bed, only shutting the door once he was tucked under his covers. I started in the direction of my room only to pause upon hearing a loud thud come from around the corner of the hallway where the vestibule was. It was out of place and I could tell it wasn't some household object that had fallen off a stand or something of the like. I decided to investigate as most of the household's employees were done for the day or finishing up in the kitchen. As I walked around the corner, I nearly gasped at the sight of Monsieur Destler attempting to pull himself off the floor by a bureau. "Monsieur Destler, what do you think you are doing?"

"It is none of your business." he hissed, whilst he struggled to get up from the ground. He hadn't even turned to look at me upon me making my presence known.

"It is my business if I have to tell your son that you went and got yourself injured even more." I fired back. The man slid back down after he had managed to pull himself just a little. He grumbled something under his breath in what I was sure was annoyance. It was apparent that he was unable to get himself off the ground. His unconsciousness had rendered him weak and he needed to regain his strength with rest and gradual exercise. "Let me help you up, Monsieur Destler."

"Absolutely not, mademoiselle."

"Fine." I said, starting for the kitchens. "I will go fetch Mademoiselle Barbier and she can help you." I had taken but a step when my employer called out for me to stop. Turning around, I wondered why he didn't want me to fetch his head of house to help him back to his room. He rolled over so that he was sitting on the floor with his back up against the bureau. His chest rose up and down heavily with the exertion he had just spent in walking from his room and the attempts to rise after he had fallen. "What do you want me to do, Monsieur Destler? You refused my help as well as your staff's. I don't feel like leaving you to help yourself is in your health's best interest or your son's."

"Why do you care?" he questioned, his mismatched eyes gazing up at me. "It is not in your job description to help me. It's not one of the rules and is therefore unnecessary."

"I care because I know your son loves you very much, Monsieur Destler." I snapped at him. "If anything were to happen to you, he would be lost in grief. That is not something I would wish upon any child. I volunteered at a children's home in Paris before I came here. One parent is far better than none at all. Although, with how you distance yourself from him, it is like he has no parents."

"He has you, doesn't he?" Erik asked, the venom in his voice replaced with a solemn melancholy. It was similar to how he had spoken to me before he left the manor. "How could he possibly love me after all that I have put him through? Ten years of ignoring my own son doesn't make me much of a father, does it?"

This sudden openness shocked me speechless as I took it all in. Was this actually happening? Monsieur Destler had just shown me more about himself in those few sentences than he had in all the time I had been around him. "It is never too late to mend that which is still mendable, Monsieur Destler. Give him a chance. If you keep your distance, you very may well lose him." I kneeled down on the floor next to him. "You won't know how he feels about you until you see it with your own eyes."

Monsieur Destler sat there next to me, silent for a few moments before he spoke again. "Where do I even begin?" he asked, looking at me with hopelessness in his eyes. I smiled softly and rose to my feet.

"You begin with taking care of yourself and getting back to your bed to rest." I answered, reaching a hand down to my employer. "And I will bring him to visit with you every day until you are better. That is a good start to patching your relationship with Gustave."

 **A/n: Finally. Erik is getting it together. A little bit at a time. Like Nadir said back in Chapter 7. Just like how I am writing this story. Not that I want to write a little bit at s time. Haha. I feel good about where the story is at right now and I am going to try to at least update every two weeks. Maybe sooner if I am able. Until next time, my lovelies.**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/n: New chapter! Yay! I have finals the next two weeks so it may not be until after them that I will have a new chapter for you all. However, I promise that over my summer break I will treat you guys quite well when it comes to updates. Hold me to it, my faithful readers. Haha. On to the chapter!**

 ** _Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day._**

 **Chapter 22**

 **Erik's POV**

I took Mademoiselle Clerisseau's outstretched hand, letting her help me to my feet. She stayed right by me as we walked back to my quarters, catching me if I started to stumble. The woman was a pain and yet, the determination in her voice when she spoke of reuniting me with my son was undeniably believable. Had she always been this determined? As she opened the door to my room, I glanced at her. I had once thought that had I known that meeting her would have led her to be here I would have not escorted her home that night back in Paris. Now, with a promise to get close to my son I revoked that thought. Not even Nadir's attempts to get me to see my son worked, but here was Miss Vivienne Clerisseau who had done so in the little time she had been around.

"Do you need anything else, Monsieur Destler?" she asked after I had settled back into my bed. I was a bit taken aback by her offer. It was the second gesture of kindness she had made tonight. As I had said before that, her duty was not to me, but to my son. Yet, she seemed to toss this one thing aside. How my well-being affected my son was beyond me, as I had never done a thing for him in his life. I did not understand it and asking again would surely make me look like a fool. "If not, I will take my leave."

"That will be all." I responded. "Good night, Mademoiselle Clerisseau."

"Good night, monsieur." She curtsied ever so slightly and turned to leave. I surely did not deserve this- her unfathomable kindness. It was not asked for nor was it required. Respect maybe, but nothing more than that. If I were any more cold hearted, I would have demanded she stop. That was the furthest thought from my mind, however. She had reached the door and began to pull it closed behind her when I called out, realizing I hadn't told her I wished to see my son.

"Mademoiselle." She paused and looked at me over her shoulder. "I… I will see Gustave tomorrow for lunch."

In the dim light cast by the wall sconces still lit in the hall, I noted the upward curl of the corners of her mouth. "He will be here. Good night." She closed the door and I was cast in darkness.

"Good night, Mademoiselle Clerisseau."

 **Vivienne's POV**

It was a little before lunch and Gustave had just finished sketching in the art journal he had brought with him. It was a magnificent drawing of the scene out his bedroom window of the sea. Gustave put his art journal away and came back, claiming that he was hungry. Taking his hand, I started in the direction of his father's room. "The dining room is the other way, Mademoiselle Clerisseau."

"I know." I responded. "We are going to take lunch with your father." I told the child. It earned me a frown, but it was not the most unhappy look I had seen on Gustave's face. Hand in hand, we walked to his father's room and I knocked on the door. "Monsieur Destler, it is Mademoiselle Clerisseau and your son. May we come in?"

"Enter." came his gruff voice from the other side. Gustave looked up at me, his disbelief with what was happening in his eyes. I grasped the doorknob and turned it while pushing the door open. The two of us entered. Monsieur Destler looked apprehensive sitting up in his bed as I guided Gustave over to the chairs at his bedside. I was positively enthralled when he accepted to see Gustave. If I had felt like making a fool of myself, I would have cried out with joy. Monsieur Destler likely wouldn't have appreciated that, so I resigned to a calm and silent exuberance.

"Good afternoon, Monsieur Destler." I said. Nudging Gustave, he did the same.

"Good afternoon." the child said quietly.

"Good afternoon." Gustave's father replied. The tension in the room was awkward. I'm sure Monsieur Destler had no idea what to say to his son. He hadn't had to engage in conversation with him before. Gustave also seemed to not eager to talk either. His father had not been there for him to get to know and with how he had distanced himself from the child, it was apparent to me that they were just as good as strangers meeting for the first time. Mademoiselle Barbier couldn't have come fast enough with the tray of sandwiches and bowls of tomato bisque. She also brought along a pot of Earl Grey tea for Monsieur Destler and myself, as well as a glass of milk for Gustave. A hearty meal, she had boasted, one that would help Monsieur Destler regain his strength.

We ate in silence, with nothing but the sounds of our eating breaking it every so often. Conversation would have been nice, but it could wait until everyone had finished their meal. I knew little of Monsieur Destler and how he was, other than what I had already seen, but I was more than certain there would be something the two Destlers held in common. I knew that they wouldn't find it themselves without a little help, giving me another duty to perform until this issue was resolved. So when we had finished lunch and Mademoiselle Barbier had cleared all evidence of it away, I initiated a conversation.

"Gustave, why don't you tell your father about your studies?" I offered to the child. "I am sure he'd be happy to hear what you are learning." The child nodded and began to list the subjects he was, or had been, learning before we came here. He spoke of math to science to history. He stumbled over his words and acted quite nervous whilst talking with his father. He finished promptly with his etiquette lessons and the room fell silent. Monsieur Destler merely sat there, looking hard-pressed to find something to say. There was a hint of something akin to pride in his eyes, but that emotion was left unspoken aloud.

"I also play the piano." Gustave added last minute, his gaze in his lap. This changed something in Monsieur Destler, his eyes brightened and he seemed to be a bit livelier than before. I caught on to the interest Monsieur Destler seemed to have in Gustave's ability to play music.

"Perhaps you may play for your father one of these days." I suggested.

"I have a piano in the study down the hall. I too play the piano." the child's father noted, calmly. "You may go there and play it as much as you like. If you leave the door open, I will be able to hear."

"Really?" Gustave asked. The child seemed in disbelief, that the words his father spoke weren't true. After all the time Gustave was pushed away by Monsieur Destler, I could imagine it would be difficult to take his word as truth. "May I go play it now?"

Monsieur Destler said nothing, but gave a curt nod. Gustave was rushing out of the room in an instant. It wasn't too much longer before the familiar sound of tinkling ivories filled the air. I glanced at Monsieur Destler, his eyes closed and the slightest smile visible beneath the edge of his mask. Mademoiselle Barbier came running down the hall in shock, knowing the Monsieur Destler did not like anyone in his study. Upon passing his door, Monsieur Destler called out for her to stop. She nearly lost it when he told her that he was the one who allowed Gustave in the study.

"I… Well…" she stammered. "I see. Let me know if you need anything else, monsieur."

I laughed aloud once the woman disappeared back to where she had come from. "How are you feeling about…?" I started to say, but was cut off by Monsieur Destler with a short 'Be quiet'. I shut my lips tight and the sound of Gustave playing down the hall filled the air uninterrupted by other sounds. It was a beautiful melody, unlike any other I had heard him play before. What was this piece of music he was playing?

"I can't believe it." Monsieur Destler whispered aloud, catching my attention. He looked on in disbelief as he had just stated he felt. "I didn't believe Nadir when he told me Gustave composed his own pieces."

"This is what you've been missing out on, Monsieur Destler." He looked at me and I could have sworn his eyes looked misty. "Shall I bring him again tomorrow?"

"Yes. Of course." was his immediate response. "You may go now. He can play as long as he likes, within reason." I left Monsieur Destler's door open as I left the room and went to sit in the study with Gustave until he decided he didn't want to play any longer.

The next week was unbelievably astounding. Gustave visited his father for lunch every day, without complaint. The more the two talked, the longer time spent together. I joined then and only participated when Gustave asked me to do so. I was mostly there to keep an eye on Gustave, knowing Monsieur Destler was still unfamiliar with the care of his son.

The child seemed to grasp onto every word he said. He would relay the stories to me or interesting things his father told him, even when I had heard them myself. His eyes lit up, as I had never seen before when he spoke about his father. It was beyond my imagination that this was actually occurring, that my goal in being with this family was becoming more and more possible.

What I loved most, and I was certain Monsieur Destler did too, was when Gustave would leave the room to the study and begin to play the piano. Music filled the house and had an effect on everyone in the house. All the staff seemed livelier during and after Gustave had played the piano. It was as if his music was bringing back life to the house and it matched the beginning of the shift from winter to spring that was happening outside the house.

The snow was melting more and more. The grass peeked out from beneath; vibrantly green against the white precipitation. It rained on numerous occasions, keeping Gustave and myself inside. Gustave did not mind one bit, being able to spend time playing the piano for his father or drawing for him. The two grew closer each day and so did the end of winter.

Of course, there were moments when Monsieur Destler and his son were still unfamiliar with one another. Gustave was not allowed very close to his father physically. There were no caring embraces, no sitting side by side, as they told stories to one another, no such contact was allowed per Monsieur Destler's request. That was an uncharted territory that Monsieur Destler would have to track himself when he was ready. Gustave was still not ready himself for that contact. Perhaps when he was, his father too would be ready.

…

That next week, Monsieur Destler had seen much improvement in his condition as well as with his relationship with Gustave. He even joined Gustave in the study one afternoon, watching him play the piano and even allowing Gustave access to any of the books on the shelves lining the shelves in the room. The doctor had returned that week as well to check up on Gustave's father, astounded with his recovery. He was still weak at times, but it seemed that wouldn't be so for much longer. The doctor even said travelling wouldn't be a problem if that was something Monsieur Destler wished.

The evening after the doctor visited, Gustave, his father, and myself were sitting in the study. The two were sitting across from one another, each with their nose in a book while I worked on mending a tear in one of my dresses. I hissed in pain as the needle pricked my finger. Monsieur Destler looked up from his book as I continued with my work. As I was tying off the stitching, he cleared his throat and spoke. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau, I think we shall travel to Paris." I snapped the extra thread and looked to him. Did he really just say we'd be travelling to Paris? "It has been too long since I've taken care of my business adventures there. We shall leave in two days. You and Gustave may come as well and stay in my apartment there until we can return to Rosenmier."

"Paris?" Gustave asked, eyes lighting up with excitement.

"You may go visit your family while we're there." Monsieur Destler offered. "Nadir can watch Gustave for a while during your visit. The old man will drop dead when he sees you there with Gustave." A long hearty laugh came from Gustave's father and my chest swelled with joy, but not just from seeing such a different man than the one I started working for. I would get to go home, if only for a while. I would get to see my family.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, does that mean we can get Puck?" Gustave questioned excitedly. Monsieur Destler looked inquisitively at me.

"What is Puck?" Monsieur Destler asked.

"Not what. Who. He's my puppy, father." Gustave explained. "I wanted him so badly and Mademoiselle Clerisseau promised we could get him when you were all better and we went home."

I was prepared for a negative reaction, but all Monsieur Destler did was shrug. "Guess Puck will have to join us in Paris." He closed his book and looked at me, in the seriousness I knew only Monsieur Destler could manage. "I hope you can handle both Gustave and a puppy."

"Of course." I responded. If I could care for 10 or more children at a time at the orphanage, a curious 10 year old and an energetic puppy would be nothing. "I've handled far worse, monsieur."

"Excellent." The clock down the hall chimed and we both glanced to Gustave, who had fallen asleep. Setting his book down, Monsieur Destler rose slowly. He was slightly exhausted from being up and about since lunch. Motioning to his son, he said "You best get him to bed. Good night, Mademoiselle Clerisseau."

"Do you want to tuck him in?" The question was one I asked in the spur of the moment. With how well things were going, I hoped that…

"Not tonight." came his curt answer. "I am quite tired and I would be imposing upon your roll here." That last part stung just a bit, however true it was. At some point, Monsieur Destler wouldn't need me around to take care of his son. As he had suggested before, he believed Gustave had become too attached to me. There was no doubt in my mind that one day I would return home, but it was still a ways off judging by Monsieur Destler's answers to my question.

"I see. Good night, monsieur." I responded as I finished putting my sewing supplies away.

"Good night." With that, the study door shut behind him and I looked to the peacefully sleeping Gustave. His book was nearly slipping off the arm of the chair he sat on and there was a contented look on the child's face. He was still so unaware of the situation he was in, but it was for the best. When it came to the relationship with his father, it was best. Would this last if I was gone? Gustave stretched and the book slid even more dangerously towards the edge of the arm of the chair.

"Let's get you to bed, young man." I said softly, going and lifting him from the chair, forgetting the strange ache in my chest from my pondering.


	23. Chapter 23

**A/n: Have a chapter. I procrastinated all summer and feel bad about it. School is back in swing and I feel motivated. So have this chapter!**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 23**

Two days passed with ease and before I knew it, we were in the carriage and on our way to Paris. Mademoiselle Barbier had wished us safe travels and told me to keep in contact. She was such a sweet woman and I'm sure the Destler Family was blessed to have her in their employment. Monsieur Thevenet was also kind enough to send us a basket of goodies for the trip. He said something about occupants of a carriage being extra agitated when they didn't have something to eat. Needless to say, I didn't mind having something to snack on along the way.

As I had promised Gustave, we picked up little Puck on our way towards Paris. The puppy was just as excited to see the boy as he was to see him. Even Monsieur Destler managed a hint of a smile beneath his mask at their reunion. That smile was short lived however when the puppy had an accident in the carriage. All over Monsieur Destler's shoe. It was decided then that Puck would be left at Rosenmier Manor when we stopped to rest for a few days. Despite the dog's mistreatment of Monsieur Destler's footwear, the man still couldn't tear his eyes away from the smile it brought to his son's face.

I awoke one night during our travelling to the most beautiful voice I had ever heard. It was not singing, but humming softly and I looked to Gustave. He was fast asleep, as was his little Brittany pup. My eyes drifted to Monsieur Destler, his mismatched eyes seemingly glowing in the dark cab of the carriage. There was no mistaking it—the owner of that voice was my employer. Now I wondered if Gustave got his musical talent from his mother or his father, knowing that both were musically inclined. Monsieur Destler's eyes caught mine in the dark and I flushed, wondering if I had been… "Go to sleep, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." his words dripped with a heavy sweetness. My eyes drooped, as if his words had urged me to do so. He still hummed, but paused every few moments to speak. I noted that his voice had a musical lilt even when he simply spoke. It was beautiful and fascinating all at the same time. Perhaps that is why the longer I fought sleep, the more my eyelids felt heavy. "It is still quite some time till morning. Sleep". The last thing that I saw as it won was those piercing mismatched eyes as his melody carried me off into my dreams.

…

A sharp rap on the carriage door woke me. "We have arrived." the driver announced, opening the door of the now still carriage. The familiar steps of Rosenmier filled my still sleepy vision. How long had I been asleep? We must have driven all night to get back here so quick. I recalled the brief few minutes I had been awake when I heard Monsieur Destler humming. Gustave was already scrambling out of the carriage with Puck in his arms. Madame Blanchet, wrapped in a heavy wool shawl, came down the steps looking at the child as he ran up and into the house. The woman looked to me and I smiled at the shocked look on her face. "Mademoiselle Clerisseau, after you." I had nearly forgotten Gustave's father was here with us. He held out a gloved hand to me, helping me from my seat and out of the carriage where the driver took my other hand to help me down. Monsieur Destler was quick to follow and he looked for having just sat in a carriage for nearly three days. Not to mention his miraculous recovery from a comatose state.

"Oh, Monsieur Destler I am glad you have returned to Rosenmier." Madame Blanchet said as her employer strode up to her spot on the steps. "We were all so worried, but we carried on knowing you'd come home to us. It is good to see you, sir." The woman was a mess, not nearly as much a mess as Mademoiselle Barbier had been, and in a better way.

"Thank you, madame." Monsieur Destler replied. His eyes looked up at the house, an emotion I could not read in them. "It is good to be home. We need to rest up before we continue to Paris."

"Of course, monsieur." Madame Blanchett motioned for us to go inside. The morning was chilly and it would do none of us any good to stay out in the cold. We all hurried into the manor, eager to get warm and some decent rest before setting out again.

After eating a light breakfast, it was straight to the bath for Gustave and then into his nightclothes. Travelling at night seemed a bit foolish to me, but Monsieur Destler insisted that we leave tonight as soon as everyone had rested enough. Gustave rubbed sleepily at his eyes as I tucked him beneath his sheets. He stifled a yawn and then looked up at me with a smile. "I can't wait to see Paris with father, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." he said to me. "What is it like?"

"Beautiful." I responded, a smile spreading across my face. Just thinking that I would be home in no more than a few days was miraculous in itself. Gustave being able to experience it with his father was on a whole different plane of happiness. "The city comes to life the moment the sun rises and remains bustling till it sets. You're going to love it, Gustave."

"You really think so?" I nodded in response to the child. Gustave yawned once again and snuggled down into his bed. "I hope it is everything you say it is and more." He was clearly fighting sleep and I knew it was time for me to go get some rest of my own. I stood from the edge of his bed and blew out the lamp at his bedside, bidding him to get some sleep.

As I made my way to the door, Monsieur Destler stepped into view from the hall. Behind me, I heard an excited gasp from Gustave. I was shocked, at first, that Monsieur Destler had come to see his son to bed. What had changed since the one time I asked if he'd tuck his son in? Before I knew it, the sound of Gustave's feet hitting the wood floor brought me back to the room. "Father!" The child ran past me and stopped in front of his father, looking up at him eagerly. _There goes all my work in getting him settled down…_ "Oh please come tell me about Paris! I can't wait to see it. Mademoiselle Clerisseau says it is beautiful."

"It is far more than a beautiful city." Monsieur Destler said, following his son back his bed. His words stung and as he passed me, I cast my gaze downwards. Since his change of heart towards Gustave, I thought perhaps I was in my employer's good graces. The previous evening in the carriage seemed much more like a sleep-deprived dream with how I was just treated. It was clear I was not welcome to remain with the two of them. Inwardly, I shook my head at myself. This needed to happen and I should not get in between the family of two. I excused myself from the room silently, allowing them to talk of my beloved Paris. _Be happy,_ I told myself. _You'll be back home soon and, if those two getting along means anything, it could be for good._ That thought lingered with a hint of sadness I did not understand as I crawled into my own bed and succumbed to sleep.

…

After countless hours of travelling through the night and well into the morning, there it appeared on the horizon—Paris. Home. "There it is, Gustave." Monsieur Destler said, pointing out the window from the seat across from us. The child stood and pressed his hands against the cool glass, his breath fogging it up. The outlines of the grand buildings and houses seemed to shine brighter than I remembered. It was a breath of familiar air and it wasn't too long before we were making our way through the heart of the city. The only time I spent time in the center of Paris was when I attended house fittings with Madame Larousse. Her shop was towards the edge of where most aristocracy shopped, but quite a few ventured out just for her gowns. I spotted much of her signature work as folks passed the carriage, recalling how difficult some of those ladies were.

We continued and I was surprised for us to pull up to the flats near the Tuileries. "We're visiting Monsieur Khan?" I asked.

"At his demand." Monsieur Destler grumbled. "If it were up to me, we'd be well away from the man." The driver opened the carriage door for us and we clambered out. Monsieur Destler led the way up the steps and to the flat. He knocked and we waited patiently for the door to be answered. Gustave was still looking around the street behind us, one hand holding mine. He had not spoken since we arrived, taking everything in and seemingly waiting to comment on it all at one time. The door opened and warm, lovely scented air flowed out past the familiar figure of Monsieur Khan. His eyes widened at the sight of Monsieur Destler standing there and only grew wider when he noticed Gustave and myself. "Good morning, Nadir. Shall you invite us in?"

"But of course!" he exclaimed, the excitement evident in his voice. Erik brushed past the man and Nadir rolled his eyes. "Do come in, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. You as well, young Gustave."

"It is nice to see you, Monsieur Khan." I said as he shut the door behind us. "Sorry to arrive without notice."

"I am quite used to it by now." the man sighed. "However, I am not accustomed to Monsieur Destler bringing anyone but himself. Please do seat yourself in the sitting room and I will go fetch some tea. Maybe some of those biscuits Erik likes so he'll be more inclined to explain this all." I smiled as Nadir left Gustave and I. That poor man… How he could put up with my employer was beyond me. Ushering Gustave towards the sitting room where his father waited, I wondered if Nadir would believe Monsieur Destler's story of the past few weeks or not.


	24. Chapter 24

**_Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day._**

 **Chapter 24**

"Now Erik," Nadir said as he came into the room, a tray with cups and the promised tea. He had even brought the biscuits Erik liked as he had said he would. "You owe me an explanation for this unexpected visit." Our gracious host sat the tray down on the table and poured each of us a cup of tea. He handed one to Monsieur Destler and then me. The man took up his own, then sat down across from us. Gustave was playing reading one of the books he had brought with them, sitting in front of the lit fireplace for its light and warmth. Nadir took a sip of his tea and then looked to his friend with a smile. "Well?"

"Well what?" Monsieur Destler retorted. I groaned internally. Nadir handled Monsieur Destler much better than I could. After scolding him for his lack of manners, my employer began to explain our reason for visiting. He told Monsieur Khan of the incident at the summer home, without mentioning why he was there in the first place during winter. That was what brought Gustave and myself to the house. Monsieur Khan commended me for my decision to go and giving Gustave a chance to leave the manor. This disgruntled Monsieur Destler and he quickly turned the conversation back to Gustave and himself. I sat quietly while the two continued talking, long after they had moved on to other topics.

"You are welcome to drop by anytime while you're here in the city." Monsieur Khan said, taking the now empty cups from my employer and myself. He smiled warmly and sighed. "I should let you go on to your apartment, Erik. It looks like Gustave could use some well-deserved rest." All three of us adults turned to find the child fast asleep with a cheek pressed to the open book. "It's been a long day for all of you."

"Thank you, Nadir." Monsieur Destler said. "I will be sure to send word to you if we decide to come visit again. Mademoiselle Clerisseau, I will go fetch the carriage. You may wait here with Gustave."

"Of—" Monsieur Destler was gone before I even finished. "—course." Nadir chuckled and patted you on the shoulder.

"That man is quite difficult, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. You've managed to make progress, however." Nadir said. He motioned to Gustave sleeping peacefully in front of the fireplace. "I've tried for many years to get Erik to spend time with his son. You have managed to accomplish what I couldn't in the course of a month. That is something to be proud of."

"It doesn't make dealing with his father any easier." I huffed. "How do you do it, Monsieur Khan? He gives you trouble and you barely react."

"It's taken time for me to be able to handle the man." he responded. "Allah knows there are times where I wished I could avoid him all together." Nadir shook his head and sat back down in his chair across from me. "He means well. He truly does. Erik has never been given the chance to be more than his life's circumstances. You've started to break that view of his, Mademoiselle Clerisseau. You've gotten him to see his son, to spend time with him and learn from him. I wouldn't be surprised if you got him to try finding someone to spend the rest of his life with and be a mother to Gustave."

"That would be something." I said, doubting that Erik would ever want someone else in his life. With the way he treated me for Gustave's attachment to me, I don't think he'd go out, of his own volition, to find a wife. The sound of the Persian man's apartment door opening and closing sounded down the hall. Monsieur Destler walked back in from the hall, his cloak draped around his shoulders. I rose from my seat and went to wake Gustave. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and I smiled down at him. "Come, Gustave. We're going to go so you can get some sleep."

"The carriage is waiting out front." Monsieur Destler said. Gustave stood up and tucked his book under his arm. He waved at his father with the other hand, getting a wave in return along with a small smile. I urged Gustave in the direction of the hall and as the two of us left the room, I heard Monsieur Destler speak. "Nadir, might I have a word with you?" The door closed as we reached the coat rack by the front door and I wondered what the two men were going to speak of. It was odd, but I probably shouldn't think too much of it.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau," Gustave said. "Is father coming?"

"Yes." I responded, helping the child into his coat. I grabbed my cloak from the rack and put it on. Taking Gustave's hand, I led us out of the house and helped him into the carriage. Just as I was moving to get in next, a squeal of delight came from down the sidewalk. My head snapped to see what the big deal was, but not before I found myself being embraced tightly.

"Vivienne!" Jules exclaimed, her arms keeping me from returning the hug. My sister had not changed a bit since I had left. She pulled back and took my hands in hers. "I can't believe you're here. Were you just visiting Monsieur Khan? Why didn't you send word you were coming to visit?"

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, are you going to get in?" Gustave asked, drawing the attention of my sister to the carriage. She smiled at Gustave and then looked back to me excitedly.

"In a minute, Gustave." I said, shutting the door so I wouldn't let any more cold air inside. Turning back to my sister, I sighed. "Julianna, I don't even know how long I'm here for. I will try to come and see you all soon."

"Is that the child you're watching?" Jules asked.

"Of course, it is." I hissed back. "Jules, I really don't have time to talk. My employer will be coming soon…"

"Well then you can introduce me!" she interrupted excitedly.

"You know I cannot do that." I had told her that was one of the required accommodations I had to make for my employment. She hadn't been happy about it and, clearly, that had not changed. Her lips turned down into a frown and I could see the annoyance in her gaze. "Julianna, I will send word by tonight if I will be able to visit. Please do not fight me on this. It will only cause problems."

"Viv…" Jules started, but stopped short. She shook her head and threw her arms up in defeat. "I guess! If you don't, I will come down here and demand Monsieur Khan tell me where I can find you."

"I love you, Jules. Thank you." I said, giving her a brief hug. When I pulled back, I smiled at her hoping she knew just how appreciative I was for her understanding. "We will be in contact soon." With that, I opened the door and climbed into the carriage. Jules waited until I had closed the door to continue on her way. I was grateful to have seen her, but it was unexpected nonetheless. Not to mention the strict confidentiality code of Monsieur Destler. It wasn't my place to divulge his life nor his child's to anyone. My job would be on the line if I ever did. I sat back in my seat and hoped Monsieur Destler wouldn't take too much longer inside.

"Who was that, Mademoiselle Clerisseau?" Gustave asked. _Ah._ I should have known the child would say something. He was not going to let it slide by. I'm sure he found it odd that some stranger, to him, would hug me and even talk with me at all.

"That was my sister." I responded. "She doesn't live very far from Monsieur Khan's with our parents. I'm probably going to visit her while we're here in Paris, if time allows."

"Oh. She seems nice. Like you." Gustave said. He was quiet for a few moments, before adding, "I wish I had a sister or a brother. Then I could play with them or talk with them like you do."

I laughed softly at his words. They were endearing, as were much of anything Gustave said. His innocent and observant nature was perhaps my favorite thing about him. "That would be nice, wouldn't it?" That was all I said, before the carriage door opened and Monsieur Destler climbed in. Behind him, Monsieur Khan waved to us from the apartment door. I waved back with a warm smile before the door shut.

"I apologize for the wait." Monsieur Destler said, as the carriage lurched forward. "We should reach the apartment in no time at all, as long as the traffic is not too terrible." He said nothing more, but there was something on his mind. What had he and Monsieur Khan talked about? I couldn't manage to think of anything and hoped that he was still wrapping his mind around his newfound relationship with Gustave. The two sat next to each other and Gustave was sidled up against his father's side until we reached the apartment.

 **…**

The grandeur of Monsieur Destler's apartment should not have surprised me. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and I had vastly underestimated it. It was a two-story flat that was lavishly decorated. Green and black tones with splashes of silver seemed to be the color scheme. The rooms were small and cozy, a place where one could feel at home away from home. I found myself in love with the room I stayed in. It had a window that looked out over the street stretching out towards the center of the city. I was glad to be back in the city where I had grown up, the city where I had family. There was a sense of comfort in Paris that I had yet to find elsewhere.

After catching up on our rest for a day, Monsieur Destler showed Gustave to the music room where a piano sat just waiting to be played. Gustave was ecstatic and set to playing while I sat sipping on some tea I had made. His father had excused himself, saying he had some business to attend to, and left the two of us to our own devices. It was peaceful to be able to relax outside of the carriage, the sound of Gustave's music filling the quiet as it had back at the house by the sea. Even the pitter-patter of rain on the roof was a welcomed sound.

Just as unexpectedly as any child could act, Gustave started playing a familiar tune. I turned to him, seeing him sway back and forth idly to the music. It was the song that I had sang to him so long ago when he had been frightened by a storm. Today's rain shower was nothing compared to the one then, but it was clear Gustave was playing it for happier reasons. He looked over his shoulder at me and grinned. "Come sing, Mademoiselle Clerisseau." he said, his fingers dancing across the keys with practiced ease.

Setting my tea aside, I stood and walked over to sit on the bench next to the child. "Will you sing with me?" I asked Gustave, waiting until the music got to a part I could join in from the first phrase.

"I think I'll just play." Gustave said. I nodded and started in with a flourish in the tune.

" _Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens  
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens  
Brown paper packages tied up with strings  
These are a few of my favorite things"_

The rain continued outside, plinking against the window panes and washing away the winter muck that had gathered there. It did not bother us in the least bit. In fact, it added to the beauty of the song.

" _Cream-colored ponies and crisp apple strudels  
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles  
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings  
These are a few of my favorite things"_

The sound of a door creaking open behind us did not come to our attention. I tapped the end of Gustave's nose playfully, getting him to giggle. His playing didn't cease, moving easily to the next verse. For this one, I stood and swayed to-and-fro with an imaginary dancing partner.

" _Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes  
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes  
Silver white winters that melt into springs  
These are a few of my favorite things"_

I turned, ready to throw myself into the last part with gusto but stopped at the sight of Monsieur Destler watching from the door. Gustave kept playing, but I remained still and silent. He finished out the melody and then turned to look at me as well, clearly curious as to why I had stopped singing. I found it impossible to find any words. How long had he been standing there watching? His gaze was unwavering and my cheeks flushed in embarrassment at being caught acting so childishly. The expression, the emotion he was feeling was impossible to discern. I hated that so much. It was very annoying not being able to tell what he was thinking, frustrating even. Averting my eyes from my employer, I quickly made my way to the tea I had left unattended. Gathering the tray with shaky hands, I kept my gaze downward.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, I thought you wanted to sing." Gustave noted. Tray in hand, I wandered over to the door. "Why did you stop?"

"Maybe you can play with your father for a bit." I responded, looking up at my employer who had finally taken his eyes away from me. Those eyes were so quick to judge and I wondered what he was thinking as he stumbled upon me acting like a fool. "I would like to go visit my family." Monsieur Destler cleared his throat. "If that is alright with you, monsieur?"

"But of course." he said calmly. Perhaps too calmly, and I found myself unsettled by it. "Please do take your time." I brushed past him and walked briskly to the kitchen. Without even attending to the dishes I used, I fetched my cloak and headed out in to the city to visit my family—and to avoid a certain confrontation with Monsieur Destler

 **A/n: Song used here, yet again, the beautiful Favorite Things from The Sound of Music.**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/n: A longer chapter. A fun chapter. A good chapter, I hope.**

 ** _Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day._**

 **Chapter 25**

The street was just as I had remembered it. So was my family's small abode as I strode up the short steps. Knocking softly on the door, I pulled my cloak tighter around me to block out some of the cold. For a very early spring, it was still quite cold and walking all the way here had taken quite some time. I should have seen about taking one of the horses or at least tried catching a cab. I had been too flustered to even think about either of those. All that had been on my mind was the embarrassment of being watched without knowing. Monsieur Destler had not seemed like such a man. He usually made himself known when in my presence, meaning that he wished me to keep to myself and allow him some time with Gustave. I respected that, of course, but still couldn't shake the thought that he had heard me at all.

"I've got it mother…" Julianna said as she opened the door, her eyes shifting from the direction of the kitchen, where mother surely was, to land on me. "Viv! You're home!" With the swiftest of motions, my sister dragged me inside off the front step and closed the door. She embraced me and quickly pushed me towards the kitchen. "Mother, you'll never believe who has come to visit us!"

As the two of us entered the kitchen, the sight of mother at the counter preparing some dough for her homemade bread brought tears to my eyes. She seemed to have aged in such a short amount of time, her hair seeming just slightly more grey than the last time I had seen her. When she looked up at me, a bright white smudge of flour on her cheek, I ran over to her. Throwing my arms around her, I couldn't care less if I got covered in flour. She returned the hug and I knew I was home, truly, in every way possible. "Vivienne, my sweet girl." she whispered, planting a kiss to my temple. "How we have missed you terribly."

"I've missed you too, maman." I replied, letting my tears fall down my cheeks. Pulling back, my mother looked me in the eyes and smiled down at me. "It is so great to be back in Paris, even if it is just temporarily."

"Where is the boy you're watching?" Julianna chipped in, plopping herself down in one of the dining chairs and earning herself a reprimanding look from our mother. "You should have brought him with you."

"He was spending time with his father and I asked for the time to come and see you all." I responded. It was mostly the truth, but I still felt bad not being able to say everything. "He likely would have been fussy about not having much to do around here, anyways."

"Well we're glad that you are home." mother cut in, drawing Jules' attention away from the topic. "How long will you be with us?"

"I am not certain." I responded. "I plan to spend as much time with you as possible though."

"If you're allowed." Julianna huffed. She looked to me, her expression one of resentment. "You've been away and have only written a handful of times, Viv. We like to know how you are doing. The least you could do is tell us about your work…"

"Julianna, you know I cannot do that." I shot back. "I apologize for not writing. There were some dire circumstances that had to be dealt with and I was caught up in it all too entirely to think of writing a letter home. Surely you understand."

"I understand that your job is far too secret. Who knows what you are actually doing?" Julianna narrowed her eyes. "For all I know, you could be doing some very unladylike things with a wedded man while watching his child."

"Julianna, that is enough!" I snapped. "If you can't drop this topic, if you can't act like the sister I remember when I left, then I might as well just leave now."

"Mother, you have to agree with…" Julianna started, but stopped at the reprimanding glance from our mother.

"Julianna, cherish the little time we do have with your sister." she said, putting the dough she had been working on into a baking pan. "You will regret it if you do not and I will make sure of that." Julianna stormed out of the kitchen with a groan of frustration having just faced our mother. The woman still had it in her to tell us when we were wrong and when things were becoming too much. It was something I'd always admired about her. She put the bread into the oven and stood up, glancing around the kitchen covered in the aftermath of her prepping the bread. "Would you mind helping your mother clean up this mess?"

I smiled. "Of course not." Together, we cleaned up the kitchen until it was spotless. Julianna, thankfully, kept her anger to a minimum and we managed to get a lot done. As the day went on, I realized just how much I had missed spending my days like this. Even with my sister's temper on edge, I enjoyed every minute with her and mother. The happiness I felt was only strengthened by father returning in time for dinner. We sat at our small kitchen table to eat and reminisce. Julianna told me how the children at the orphanage were doing, who had been adopted and even the new additions to the temporary home.

As I parted with everyone to return to the Destler household, I promised this would not be the last time I visited during the time in the city. Mother still ended up crying and I was thankful father was there for her to lean against. Julianna said a brief goodbye, her mood somewhat improved since I had first arrived. I knew that when my work with Monsieur Destler was done, I could easily return to this. My family meant the world to me and I knew that even Julianna would be happy to have me back home. Until my work was done, I would dream of the day that I was able to stay here with the people who loved me.

…

 **Erik's POV**

As I sat listening to Gustave play, I found my mind drifting to the soft and untrained, however beautiful, voice that had accompanied him just minutes prior. It hadn't occurred to me that Mademoiselle Clerisseau had any amount of vocal talent. I had listened from the hall, at first. Her voice brought about a deep longing to write music once more. It had been a while since I had published my last piece of work and something in her voice inspired me. I was drawn into the door way just as the song seemed to be coming to a close. I had a wish to watch rather than just listening to what was going on. Had I known that Mademoiselle Clerisseau would stop upon my arrival, I would have stayed out in the hall. It was clear she was embarrassed from my unannounced arrival. For once, I found myself regretting my choice of actions. It hadn't been my intention to embarrass her to the point of excusing herself from the flat.

Of course, I let her leave. She wished to see her family, something I expected her to ask to do ahead of time. However, I had obviously made her uncomfortable and it was the least I could do. As she brushed past me, her eyes downcast, I felt an inkling of guilt. Nonetheless, she left, and I brushed off the pest of an emotion. Gustave continued to play the piano, at my request. The child chose his rendition of a classic piece, but my mind kept wandering back to the song he shared with his nanny. It was unclear to me whether it was of her creation or Gustave's. Had they played it together before? As he finally finished the piece, I cleared my throat and asked him about it. "That song you were playing with Mademoiselle Clerisseau…" I started as he turned to look at me. "Did you write that?"

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau sang it to me one night." he responded. "It was stormy, and I was scared. She sang it and I was no longer frightened. I've been trying to get the accompaniment down and finally came up with it." A small smile spread across his face and he looked into my eyes. "Her voice is pretty, father. Don't you think?"

"It is indeed." And lacking enough air and out of tune for brief moments. Her voice was untrained, yes, but there was a hint of quality within it. Nothing that couldn't be fixed with a little tutoring. The tune crept into my mind yet again and I pondered tutoring the girl myself. Whatever for, I hadn't the slightest idea. Just for the fun of it, I suppose. She didn't seem to have much interest in performing anyways. It was no matter. Gustave had fallen silent and I didn't want to keep thinking of the occurrence from earlier. "Why don't we go grab some lunch at Monsieur Khan's, Gustave?" My old friend had been expecting only myself, but I am sure he wouldn't mind having Gustave along. It would also be worth it to see the extreme look of disbelief on his face upon our arrival. "Come along then, boy."

"Yes, father."

As expected, Nadir was shocked to see Gustave along with me. The lack of the boy's nanny shocked him even more. As we ate lunch, we spoke about the progress at the Palais Garnier in my absence and whether they were using their generous funding usefully. Nadir seemed to think so and had been to a handful of the performances, each doing better than the last. While I had Nadir keep an eye on things at the opera house during the periods I was away, I knew better than to trust the man's judgement entirely. There was an upcoming production of Dante in a few days. I planned on being there. Gustave expressed an interest in attending and I felt pride swell in my chest. He was a boy after my own heart, of my flesh and blood. However, he suggested we bring Mademoiselle Clerisseau along. It begrudged me to grant him that request, but I worried how he would react if I did so.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in Nadir's study, sipping on tea and making small talk. Gustave had found a book among my dear friend's collection that he set to reading. By the time supper rolled around, he had nearly finished it. The child looked terribly exhausted from his binge reading, but thankfully managed to walk himself out the door to our awaiting carriage when we were headed home. It crossed my mind, as we passed by the street Mademoiselle Clerisseau's family lived on, that it might be good to offer her a ride back to the flat. The sun would be setting shortly, and it would not be wise for her to walk back to the flat when it did. It also occurred to me that she may have already returned and dealing with her family was not something I would wish upon myself. Gustave leaning against my arm, having just fallen asleep, drew my attention away from the woman as the carriage continued towards the flat.

Peering down at my son, I noted one of his small hands loosely holding my sleeve. The look on his face was one of complete peace, none of the rage or looks of prying curiosity. I was terrified to move a muscle and wake him. Even breathing seemed like too much of a jarring movement. I swallowed the lump of emotion that had risen into my throat. He reminded me more and more every day of his mother, his dear, sweet mother that had sent me back to him. Lifting my arm that was not occupied with a child, I brushed a gloved hand through the soft brown locks atop his head and watched them fall back into place. This was extraordinary, beyond anything I had ever imagined occurring. For a moment, my eyes watered, and I felt the weight of what I had put my child through over the last ten years leave my shoulders. This was how it was meant to be. I would spend the rest of my days knowing I could never neglect him again.

We arrived at the flat and I carried him inside, feeling blessed he had not awakened by me doing so. I laid him in his bed and removed his shoes, at the least. Mademoiselle Clerisseau could finish the rest. Leaving his room, I crossed the hall and knocked on her door. It creaked open and I looked inside to find it empty. "Odd." I said to myself. She should have returned by now. I had not given her the night to spend with her family, as well. The woman had not shown any prior problems with her duty to Gustave, never once failing to care for him as I asked. It was unlike her to not be here when she should. Going in search of the solitary housekeeper, I hoped that I would also find the foolish woman. Upon finding the housekeeper cleaning up things in the kitchen, I questioned her. "Has Mademoiselle Clerisseau returned yet?"

"No, sir." the graying woman responded.

"I see." Something was wrong, terribly wrong. "Would you attend to my son? He needs to be dressed for bed. If he should need for anything else, do not hesitate to give it to him."

"Of course, monsieur." The woman followed me from the kitchen and we split ways as I grabbed my cloak from the hanger by the door. Opening the door, I headed out into the night to, hopefully, find Mademoiselle Clerisseau. As I walked down the sidewalk, I swore that I would not let her out of my sight again if something had happened to her. I should have known that she would have walked home after sundown, having done so upon our first meeting. The part of town she lived in was not the most forgiving to those who wandered the streets. I would be lucky to find her in one piece, even if she hadn't been accosted by thugs.

Within a few blocks of her house, I heard a commotion coming from an alley. Reaching for the Punjab lasso tucked inside my cloak, I readied myself for the worst. I wanted to pull the wool over the eyes of whoever it was making such a ruckus. Sneaking through the dark, I peered into the alley to see a group of three young men hovering over a feminine figure. They had licentious looks upon their faces, throwing vulgarities at her that not even a sailor would use. I drew near to them, pressed up against the brick wall of the building. Anger flared up in me at the sight of crumpled figure in front of them, dress tattered and muddied. She was sobbing and seemingly unable to get up to attempt an escape. I was close enough now to know it wasn't Mademoiselle Clerisseau, but I would still intervene.

Throwing a weighty stone from the ground next to me towards the men, I nailed the furthest one in the shoulder. He swore and clutched at his arm. "Where the hell did that come from?" All three of the men now turned from their victim, scanning for whoever had just intruded upon their criminal activity.

"Who goes there?" one called out, his mouth hanging open to show what rotted teeth he had left. A knife glinted in his hand from the dim moonlight. Picking up a smaller stone, I tossed it and watched it hit the third man, the one closest to me, in the ear. He too swore and brandished his knife. "You alright, Jacques?"

" _Merde_ …" he reached up to his ear, pulling it back and seeing the stain of blood on his finger tips. "Whoever is there is going to be sorry when we find him." The woman next to him whimpered and he looked down at her with an angered look. He drew back his foot and kicked her in the side, just above her waist. "Keep quiet, you filthy…"

The man was unable to finish his sentence as I had wrapped my weapon around his neck, quickly restricting his breathing. In a panic, he dropped his knife and reached back to stop me from suffocating him. His two associates were now homed in on my presence, creeping towards me with glares that spoke volumes of their annoyance. "Messieurs, it would not be wise to come at me while I have your friend here." I warned, throwing my voice so it echoed around them in the alley. The one I had hit in the shoulder stopped, his eyes widening and flitting around. His fear did not escape my notice and I used that to my advantage. Throwing my voice again, I aimed it for just next to his ear. " _Run while you have your chance, boy._ " And run he did.

"Coward!" his remaining friend shouted after him, his eyes leaving me for just one opportune moment. Dropping the one he called Jacques, I lunged for him and quickly knocked the dull knife from his hand. Swinging a fist, I caught him in the temple with enough force that he dropped like a rock to the ground. Turning back around to Jacques, who was coughing as air flooded back into his lungs, I stormed over to him and picked him up by his collar. Heaving him up so he was eye level, I gave him a violent shake and snarled.

"You have angered the wrong man, Jacques." The man was still coughing, but he looked like he was about to burst into tears. He didn't look a day over 18, but it did not excuse his behavior. "You will tell me what I want to know and then you will go home, wherever that hole may be, or I will see you to the gates of Hell myself. Understood?" He nodded furiously. "Have you accosted any other women this evening?"

"Yes." he responded hoarsely. "Just one other."

"Where?" I pressed, my hands clenching tighter around his collar.

"The block just over, by the orphanage." I dropped him and gave him one swift kick to his side, right where I had seen him do the same on the woman here. He groaned and clutched at his side.

"You will stay right there until I have left, or I will fulfill my threat." I hissed down at him. I turned to find the woman they had assaulted violently attempting to stand up, one of her ankles obviously injured. Approaching her, I held my hands up in a motion of innocence. She gazed up at me, her doe-like eyes filled with tears. "Mademoiselle, you need medical attention. Let me assist you, please." I waited to move any further until she gave me the okay to do so. "I will not let anyone harm you now, do you understand? You're safe."

The woman shuddered and collapsed back against the wall behind her. "Bless you, monsieur." she cried, burying her bruising and swollen face in her hands. She dropped them back to her sides, taking deep breaths before addressing me. "I am afraid I can't walk with my ankle like this. I twisted it badly when I was running from them." Closing the distance between us, I put an arm beneath her arms and then the other behind her knees, lifting her off the ground. She leaned against my chest, sobbing and whispering words of thanks. "You're an angel, monsieur. I don't know what I would have done if they had… if they had…"

"Shh…" I hushed, humming softly to lull her to sleep. "You are safe now." As we left the alley, her crying had quieted, and I continued to hum as I headed in the direction of the orphanage. The parlor light was on as it came into view. Perhaps they had found Mademoiselle Clerisseau already. The woman in my arms had fallen fast asleep with the aid of my humming, though her body had remained tense. It would not be a very restful sleep and I planned on waking her once we reached the orphanage. I was thankful that I had stumbled upon those criminals and was able to keep them from doing far worse damage to this woman. I prayed, as I climbed the steps to the door of my destination and knocked on the door, that Mademoiselle Clerisseau had also been spared such a terrible assault.

The door swung open quickly, the gaze of the man who had answered it drawn immediately to the unconscious woman in my arms. Clearing my throat, I spoke before he could draw any wrong conclusions. "Monsieur, if you could be so kind as to…"

"Two in one night." he interrupted, shoulders sagging. He opened the door wider and motioned for me to enter with a dejected look. "Please, come inside, come inside." I entered the warm entryway, confused yet appreciative of this man's reaction. After he closed the door and locked it, he turned from me and started walking towards another doorway. "Bring her here." I followed, being careful not to bump the woman in my arms against the wall as I did so. He rounded the corner leading into the parlor I had seen lit from down the street. As I cleared it, he pointed to the empty chaise. "Lay her there and I will go fetch a doctor."

"Luc, I can't thank you… Monsieur Destler!" Mademoiselle Clerisseau's voice grabbed my attention immediately as I set down the woman I had rescued. I stood up as quickly as I could and turned to find her. She was leaning in the doorway she had just came through, holding it with one hand and the other holding a wet cloth to her temple. Her hair was a mess and her dress had some grime on it, but she seemed alright otherwise. "What are you…" She stopped upon seeing the woman on the chaise. "Oh dear." Then she looked back to me, her eyes locking with mine. Her bottom lip quivered as she brought her other hand up to wipe a tear that had slipped down her cheek. "Thank goodness you're here." With that, she rushed over and threw her arms around me, hugging me tightly and crying quietly. And I let her, without reprimand or angered questions. For some God forsaken reason, I let her.


	26. Chapter 26

**A/n: Despite a rough start to my spring semester at school, I have managed to make time to write. I am happy for it and hope you all enjoy. On to the chapter!**

* * *

 _ **Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 26**

 **Vivienne's POV**

Monsieur Destler did not pull away from my embrace, returning the motion for a brief second. When I pulled away, I looked up at him and gave a small reassuring smile. He frowned, bringing up one of his gloved hands to brush just under my newly sporting shiner. The cool leather against my cheek felt good, but I winced a little at the pressure. He pulled his hand away as he noticed my pain, apologizing. Bringing the cold wet cloth back up to my cheek, I winced yet again. "It's just tender." I said, knowing he hadn't meant to hurt me. The feather light touch permeated the area he had skimmed his fingers over. If my cheeks weren't still pink from the cold wind outside, anyone would have been able to see the slight flush of embarrassment that crossed them. He had come all this way to find me. There was no other explanation for him being here. "I'm sorry that I worried you. This won't happen again."

"It should never have happened in the first place." he muttered angrily. His eyes darted over to the woman he had brought in before coming back to rest on me. He must have come across her on his way to find me. She was lucky that he did, even though she was in a far worse state than I was. "You are lucky you weren't injured to the extent she was. No more walking the streets alone at night, mademoiselle. You have a duty to Gustave and, as your employer, it would not sit well with me if you had been hurt worse. Do you understand?"

"I understand, Monsieur Destler." His concern made a lump of guilt rise in my throat. It had not been the first time he had told me to not be alone at night here in Paris. I couldn't bear to think of the consequences had I been hurt worse, not to mention the shame I would feel. The shame I felt as Monsieur Destler walked over to the woman laying on the chaise. He pulled the blanket hanging over the back of it onto her, having noticed her shivering. Moving closer, I glanced down at her. "How bad off is she?"

"She has a twisted ankle, likely sprained." he responded. "Besides the scrapes and cuts, there is really no telling if she has any internal damage until the doctor arrives. I wouldn't be surprised if she has a broken rib or two. However, a larger portion of the damage will be the shock from the event itself." A heavy silence fell. Monsieur Destler stood and paced over to the fireplace where the fire was nearly out. The dim, flickering light it cast projected his shadow across the room ever so faintly. He stirred it and some embers rose from the coals as he added another log to the fire. "Why do you women insist on putting yourselves in danger's way?"

His question caught me off guard. "We don't do it on purpose." I argued. Did he truly think that? I took a seat in the chair next to the chaise and continued my statement. How he ever had a wife was beyond me. It was a miracle anyone could put up with him and his incredulous defenses against the world, against life itself even. "I didn't ask for those men to jump me, nor did that woman. It was nothing I had control over, Monsieur Destler."

"If you were wise, you'd have never set a foot outside your family's home." He cast a glance over his shoulder at me, his eyes glowing from the firelight. "I would have sent the carriage upon realizing you had not returned. It crossed my mind to do so. Or you could have waited until the morning to return to the flat. You could have avoided this entirely, Mademoiselle Clerisseau."

"Do not talk to me of such things." I snapped back. I was not amused he was making me out to be the cause of what happened. Not. One. Bit. "Forgive my rudeness but living my life in fear is not something we share, Monsieur Destler. Look what your fear caused you and your son. Ten years of loneliness, of living just part of your life, of not having a family, and with what reasoning?" My employer turned to me now, his eyes glowering down at me. He was mad, if not annoyed, but surely angered by my words. "I refuse to live by the same book you do. A life lived in fear is not a life at all."

I watched as the anger upon his face dissipated. He pursed his lips together, as if in thought of what to say in return. The struggle to make an argument against mine was satisfying to see, despite knowing I was venturing into dangerous water by arguing at all. Luc poked his head in, drawing both of our attention away from the tension in the room, to say that he was going to fetch the doctor. He asked me to check in on the children upstairs if I heard anything. I promised to do so, and he headed on his way. The sound of the door closing as he left echoed through the building. Turning back to Monsieur Destler, I expected him to continue the conversation from before. Instead, he silently stoked the fire again to keep it going and then went to check on the woman on the chaise.

As Luc certainly predicted, there was a commotion upstairs where the children slept. I sighed, rising from the cushioned chair I had made myself comfortable in. Monsieur Destler had just risen from next to the chaise and watched as I passed by, his gaze being felt until I rounded the corner leading to the stairway. The escape from that parlor was much appreciated, but my head still felt a bit light from the nasty right hook. The injury would surely appear to get worse before it got better and would just be a reminder of Monsieur Destler's inane argument from tonight. I took a deep breath at the anger that bubbled within me from the conversation. It took quite a bit of stupidity to make me react as I did. Despite my initial annoyance and disbelief, I knew that it was how Monsieur Destler had spent his life. That was his comfort in this world, and I knew I'd have acted as he did if faced with the same situation. I still didn't agree with it, but there was very little I could do to change that.

Getting upstairs, I followed the sound of hushed voiced down the hall and opened the door that they were coming from. As I poked my head in, they eyes of a handful of the young girls immediately turned my way. "Miss Vivi!" Marie, the first child I recognized, exclaimed. She threw back her covers and bounded over to wrap her arms around me. With the noise she had made, most of the others in the room joined in the excitement of me being there. Down the hall, I heard some of the boys rousing from their sleep as well. "We've missed you all so terribly."

"I've missed you all too." I said, glancing around the room. A few of the cots were empty and I knew that in the time I was gone, some of the children had been adopted. It warmed my heart knowing they finally had a family of their own. I noted the new faces and a few of the girls that knew me explained who I was to them. "Although I am here now, it is well past your bed time. You should all be fast asleep right now."

"We know." Marie sighed. "Will we get to see you again?"

"Of course, you will Marie." Brushing a hand through her wispy blonde hair, I smiled down at her. "I'll make sure of it, but you need to go to bed. All of you." I leaned back, seeing Antoine and a few of the boys glancing down the hall from their dormitory. "Get back to bed and have sweet dreams." Marie was reluctant to let me go as I urged her towards her bed. The girls whispered words of goodnight and I shut the door behind me, giving one last pointed look at the boys still lingering in their door. "Bed. Now." The door shut and I heard the shuffling of their feet as they returned to their cots for the night. My heart was light as I returned down stairs. The children gave me such joy and I found myself promising to think of them more often. Marie, especially. She was a beam of sunshine in this place and I hoped so terribly for her to have a home of her own someday soon.

As I came around the corner into the parlor, my eyes found the woman on the chaise, sat up and staring quietly at the floor. The shuffling of my feet on the wood floor caught both her attention and Monsieur Destler's, who was seated in the chair I had left earlier. She looked like she had been through hell and back. One of her pupils was blown wide and the look she had was someone who was still terrified. "I'm Vivienne." I said as I walked towards her slowly.

"Camille." she said hoarsely, giving her name in return. I felt my heart constrict with emotion at the lack of life in her voice. It was clear just how traumatized she was. "Camille De Vincent."

"Would you like to wash up a little?" I question, knowing I would want to after such an encounter as the one she surely had. "I can go fetch a pitcher and a cloth."

"That sounds lovely." Her voice cracked and she buried her face in her hands. A shudder ran through her body, her shoulders shaking as she broke down into sobs. Sitting on the chaise next to her, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder and gently pulled her close to me. She leaned into me and continued to cry.

"I will go fetch those things." Monsieur Destler said, causing me to turn my head towards him. His offer was unexpected, but not unwelcomed. I couldn't be anything but thankful that he had come all this way for me, that he had also saved this poor woman from any further harm. There were those who wouldn't do a thing in the same situation he was. He had stood and walked over to the doors leading into the hall but stopped and turned back. "The kitchen is…"

"Across the hall and the door on right hand wall." I responded. Looking into his eyes, I did my best to convey my gratuity to him along with my words. "Thank you, Monsieur Destler." He nodded in acknowledgement and disappeared into the hall without another word.

Bringing my attention back to the sobbing woman in my arms, I did my best to comfort her. Humming softly to the song I had shared with Gustave, I rocked the two of us back and forth slowly. I brushed her messy hair from her face and noted a few nasty goose-eggs upon her scalp, avoiding bumping them. Her sobs quieted as the minutes passed and I continued my ministrations until she was still. Monsieur Destler returned after a while, having taken longer than I expected. As he approached with the pitcher and a stack of clean cloths, I noted the steam rising from the water.

"You heated the water?" I questioned, amazed by his thoughtfulness.

His eyes locked with mine. "Yes." he responded. "I also added a few drops of witch-hazel and lavender I found in Monsieur Luc's stores." I watched as he poured some water onto one of the cloths and handed it to me. I was shocked by this unforeseen kindness of Monsieur Destler. Taking it from him, I thought of thanking him yet again, but he quickly left the parlor without explanation. With a soft sigh, I started to wipe away the muck and grime from Camille's skin. I apologized whenever I made her wince or flinch in pain, either from pressing too hard or the stinging of the witch-hazel in her cuts. Soon enough, I had her cleaned up as best as I could do and she seemed to be a bit more relaxed. As I was cleaning up the messy cloths, Luc returned with a doctor. He thanked me for keeping an eye on things here and urged both Monsieur Destler and myself to return home for the night.

Doing as Luc said, Monsieur Destler and I stood in the entry way of the orphanage, readying ourselves for the trek home. He grabbed my cloak for me and waited patiently for me to put it on. I took it from his hands and let it settle over my shoulders, the heavy warmth of the fabric a true comfort. He had the door open when I looked back up from fastening the cloak, a distant and tired look on the unmasked side of his face. As I passed through the door and he shut it behind us, I spoke, letting what had been on my mind be known. "Monsieur Destler, thank you for all you have done this evening."

"I know. It is of no importance." he responded, not truly getting what I was thanking him for nor why I was. We descended the steps and I let him take the lead, trailing behind him as I had done a few months ago.

"Of course, it is important." I argued softly. "I'd also like to apologize for our conversation from before. It is not my place to dictate your lifestyle. I had no business in bringing it up and I also feel terrible for bringing up Gustave as a point to make for my argument. That was not professional of me and I am truly sorry for it all."

I stumbled into the back of the man, who had stopped suddenly in front of me. Stepping back so I wasn't so close to him, I readied myself to reprimand him for disregarding my sincere apology only to have him return my sentiments. "It is not you who should be apologizing, mademoiselle." he admitted, glancing back at me. "I was the one who chased you away from the flat by intruding upon your song with Gustave. If anyone is to blame for this all, it is…"

"No one's." I cut him off, not wanting him to shoulder the events of the day on his own. "It is not one person's fault. Let us put this behind us, Monsieur Destler, and start anew with the only matter of importance being the care of your son. I will also do my best not to let something like this happen again."

"That is an idea I can agree with." he said, as we started to walk again. "However, you must promise me one thing." I eyed him suspiciously, curious as to what he meant.

"What might that be?"


	27. Chapter 27

_**Zephyr: (n.) a gentle, mild breeze. It does not disrupt, nor cause chaos, it merely brings a pleasant sensation on a warm summer day.**_

 **Chapter 27**

 _A few days later…_

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau," Gustave gaped at me, his silly expression of awe even sillier when noting his very formal attire. He looked like a smaller version of his father, who seemed to always dress in formal wear. The suit, with the neatly tied and tucked ascot and glittering silver cuff links, helped him look even more like the perfect gentleman he was. Getting him into the clothing was an adventure, but what I could not accomplish was easily adjusted by his father. "You look beautiful."

"Why thank you, Gustave." I nodded, smoothing out the skirt of the lovely evening gown that had been prepared for me. The crème colored brocade had to have been the most expensive of its kind, the quality of it something I had never experienced when working as a seamstress. I adored the detailed floral design on the fabric, the little pink and purple flowers woven with soft green vines truly exquisite on the crème brocade. Silk gloves, of the same crème color, went all the way up to my elbows. Monsieur Destler had also seen I was provided with hair accessories to put mine up for the evening out. It was curled and pulled up into a lovely Spanish knot, not a single hair astray thanks to a few handy hair pins. The girl I had seen in the mirror after getting dressed was not one I could have imagined myself. I felt like a princess, like a lady of the finest things in life. Even the nasty shiner had faded enough to be covered up with a little makeup.

The promise was something so… odd. Such an out of character thing for Monsieur Destler to ask of me, but it shouldn't have surprised me. After all, he was the patron of the world-renowned Palais Garnier.

" _Have you ever attended an opera?" he had asked. "I am taking Gustave to see a production of Dante on Friday."_

I had never been to the opera in my whole life, but how I used to wish I could one day experience it myself. My mother would often recount the exciting stories from the operas she had seen in her youth to Julianna and I. On rainy days when we couldn't play outside or as bedtime stories, she recounted the tales of tragedy, romance, adventure to us. She always told us the songs and music were terribly beautiful and exciting, much more than the story itself. Julianna and I would act out our own versions of the stories, making dialogue into lyrics and singing them as best as children could. It was yet another cherished memory of my childhood, something I had forgone as I grew older. And, of course, to attend the opera with Monsieur Destler and Gustave was what I was asked to promise. I accepted without question.

If I had known the promise Monsieur Destler asked of me would put me here, I would have scoffed in disbelief. All these nice things for simply apologizing? It seemed to good to be true. He wouldn't allow me to pay for my own gown or accessories, paying for ever last franc. I hadn't the faintest clue how much he had spent on everything and it gnawed at me. He even denied me when I asked him to deduct the costs from my following payments for my service to his son. Monsieur Khan told me during our last visit, just the day before our excursion to the opera, to simply make the most of it. _"It is rare that Monsieur Destler does things like this. You best take it before he changes his mind."_ the man had warned. In such a short time, the whole ensemble was finished. I could never have finished a gown such as this in one, not even two, sittings. It must have taken someone a good two days without break to finishing the gown. I could only hope they were paid well for their craftsmanship and efficiency given the time.

Gustave took one of my gloved hands and we walked down the stairs to where his father was waiting. Monsieur Destler looked up from his pocket watch as we came into view, tucking it away and straightening his jacket. His formal wear was impeccable, as usual. I noticed that he and Gustave matched, bringing a small smile to my face. No wonder I thought he looked exactly like his father. However, the dark and richly colored suit seemed as if it were made for the man. He seemed more like the powerful, mysterious, and wealthy man they high class of Paris had imagined him to be. Much more mysterious indeed, with the black half mask creating a dark image of anonymity. Stepping off the stairs, Gustave ran over and grabbed my cloak from the hanger next to the door to bring it back to me. "Here you are, Mademoiselle Clerisseau."

"Are we ready to go?" Monsieur Destler asked once I had fastened my cloak around my shoulders. He had just finished pulling on his leather gloves and, yet again, checked his pocket watch. Ever the punctual man, it seemed the man was rearing to go. The opera awaited and nothing could him from going. The three of us were prepared, so we headed out the door and into the waiting carriage. The driver shut the door behind us and just a few moments later, we were on our way to the grand Palais Garnier.

The short ride was as expected—quiet with excitement. Gustave watched out the window, just waiting for the carriage to lurch to a stop and be able to see the beautiful building. Monsieur Destler bounced a leg idly, his fingers tapping a tune against the opposite leg. He checked his pocket watch twice more before we arrived. I noticed all this, while feeling like I, myself, was going to burst open from excitement. It had been a long time since I had just walked past the wonderfully constructed building. Every time I had, there was always the thought of what might lay beyond those lovely crafted doors. I never pictured it twice the same way. The people I imagined inside were always the high classed folks that shopped at Madame Larouse's. I had even dared to imagine Monsieur Destler, who was always the talk of the people in attendance. The stories my mother retold were imagined coming to life on an enormous stage, dancers and actors and singers breathing life to the entire theater.

At last, we arrived. The driver opened the door and we stepped out, the enormous opera house towering just before us. Gustave's grip on my hand tightened and he looked between me and his father with the biggest grin on his face. "It is so beautiful." he commented.

"Just wait until we get inside." Monsieur Destler said as we climbed the steps. Footmen held the doors open for those pouring in from the cold, welcoming to the theater. I closed my eyes briefly as we stepped inside, opening them to the sea of color around the foyer. Marble and large red drapery were the largest details. Then, of course, were the numbers of golden fixtures and statues of many different characters. The ceiling was painted masterfully with cherubs amongst clouds, playfully gazing down at the people entering the opera house. The footmen directed people to the box office or towards where they were to give their tickets and enter the theater. They even matched the theme of the foyer, in bright red and gold accented uniforms. A cacophony of voices filled the air, laughing ladies and men speaking loudly to those around them. The heavy scent of perfume and expensive cigars hung in the room. After taking it in, I knew I would never be able to imagine it any other way. This was the Palais Garnier, bold and beautiful in every way possible.

We moved towards a separate set of stairs once inside, heading away from the large crowd of people in the foyer. A footman nodded to Monsieur Destler, who tipped the fedora he donned right back. Gustave and I followed him up, quiet with awe of the moment. After going up the flight of stairs, Monsieur Destler took us down a hall with multiple doors dressed in a velvety fabric and with curtains pulled back to reveal them. Some were open whilst others were not. From the other side, one could hear more people talking and music. The music was unlike anything I had heard before. It was a harmony of different sounds, of instruments I did not know by name. At the very last door, Monsieur Destler pulled it open and motioned for Gustave and I to enter.

My breath left my body as I gazed out at the theater. There were people in the boxes across from us, people down below us in their seats or just wandering in to find them, and people with instruments down in the pit just in front of the stage. The stage was covered with an enormous red curtain, embroidered with ropes of gold it seemed. I gaped at the crystal chandelier hanging above even the boxes, sparkling like the sun upon the Seine in summer. It's light was faint. The light upon the stage was far brighter. Rich dark wood made up the front of it and the pit where musicians were tuning their instruments. I felt like I should pinch myself, to make sure that all of this was real. Gustave was at the front of the box, peering out over the theater all the same.

"Why don't you both take a seat?" Monsieur Destler offered, motioning to the plush chairs next to his. I turned, looking to them and then back to him. Our eyes locked and something strange happened: neither of us looked away for seconds that seemed like hours. His mismatched eyes gazed deeply into mine, seeming to reflect light like the crystal of the chandelier. The expression he had was intense yet soft at the same time, dare I say a one of happiness. My mouth became dry and I felt my heart skip a beat before hammering against my rib cage relentlessly. What was this? The sound of applause snapped me out of whatever stupor had crossed me momentarily, causing me to turn away as a blush painted my cheeks. No, it was a flush. Taking my seat on the other side of Gustave, furthest away from his father, I told myself it was a flush of embarrassment that heated my cheeks. Stealing one last side glance at my employer, I reaffirmed to my self that it was nothing but a flush.

…

A thunderous applause echoed in my chest as the curtain fell, marking the end of the opera. I had joined the rest of the crowd, up on my feet and clapping with a smile upon my face. Even Monsieur Destler had stood and was applauding, though he was expressionless otherwise. I couldn't believe what I had just witnessed. Even more so, I could not believe that it was over. If I had been any closer to the edge of my seat during the performance, I would have fallen right off it. The story was beautiful in and of itself, only bettered by music and song. The costumes, the sets, every little detail included in the production brought the emotions of each scene. As the applause died down, people started to file from their seats to leave. Some seemed indifferent to what they had just witnessed, while others seem pleased. I looked down, hoping to find someone who was just as impressed as I.

"Mademoiselle Clerisseau, will you wait here with Gustave?" Monsieur Destler asked, grabbing my attention. Gustave, despite his excitement prior to the performance, had fallen asleep in his seat almost halfway through the opera. He had woken once or twice but had quickly gone back to sleep. "I must go speak with the manager before he gets too busy. It should not take me longer than a few minutes."

"Yes, Monsieur Destler." I responded.

With that, he left the box and I sat back down. Throughout the performance, I had done my best not to notice the few people who turned their opera glasses in the direction of the box. There had been several spying upon us, all from boxes across the way. The glint of the lenses gave them away. I knew that they were the same people who would speculate about Monsieur Destler. It was likely they knew he had this box. I wondered if he knew himself, that the three of us had been watched. The man enjoyed his privacy, his life separate from the carnivorous appetite of society. I knew the garbage that was said about him and several other reputable names. It was unpleasant and crude, yet always hidden behind a mask of wealth and propriety. Those that acted as such surely wouldn't enjoy the same thing done unto them.

A knock echoed through the box and I turned in my seat, wondering if it was Monsieur Destler returning. I stood to go answer the door, but it was already opening. A woman poked her head in, her eyes catching mine. "Why, I am terribly sorry." she said haughtily. "I could have sworn this box was empty." She stepped the rest of the way in, leaving the box door open behind her. Her gown was of my least favorite fabric, chiffon. It was ruffled and of the most disgusting shade of pink, bows decorating each shoulder and the neckline, as well as the hip. I recognized the work of Madame Larouse and I knew that she was only spying.

"Not yet." I responded, shifting uncomfortably. The woman walked forward, her eyes scanning around the box to find if there was anyone else. "Madame, I hate to seem rude but this is a private box."

"The performance is over, dearie." she said with a laugh feigning amusement. "Or hadn't you noticed? You must be Monsieur Destler's wife." My face caught fire at her words, flushing hot and red in embarrassment. Not wanting to seem rude was now out of the question.

"Leave now!" I snapped, not having any more of this woman. The furiosity in my voice caught the woman off-guard. She took a step back, but not a step more before I could continue. "Or I will call a footman in here to escort you out myself. You would not appreciate someone intruding upon your private box, whether the performance was over or not. I am sure you have better things to do than come here to spy and make up some juicy gossip for tea tomorrow afternoon." The woman held a hand to her chest, showing the offense she took from my words.

"Well, I am shocked." she whined, gathering her skirt in her other hand. "How dare you talk to me like that, you… you…"

"Madame Richard, your husband is looking for you." A woman with a tight braid thrown over her shoulder and a sharp look in her eyes had kindly interrupted. She was not amused by the outburst of the woman who had come here uninvited, just as much as I had been. Madame Richard let out a huff and stormed past the woman in the doorway. "Mademoiselle, Monsieur Destler sent me to get you and his son. His business with Monsieur Albert is much more complicated than he thought and would like to send the two of you home."

"Of course." I replied. I shook Gustave lightly enough to wake him and smiled softly at the child. "We're leaving now, Gustave. Your father will be home a little later, but we can go now." He stood and I tucked him back into his coat. I put my own cloak back on and headed towards the woman in the door. Once Gustave and I were out in the hallway, she shut the door behind us and headed back the way we had entered prior to the performance. She had a sturdy cane in one hand, the end of it tapping against the floor with every other step. She glanced back at me over her shoulder, offering a tight smile.

"I am glad I arrived when I did." she said. "I am Madame Giry, a good friend of your employer and the ballet instructor here. He knew you'd likely be accosted by some of the audience."

"Thank you, Madame Giry." We entered the foyer, that was yet again filled with people moving about. I avoided looking at anyone directly, thinking that if I did, they would feel inclined to come and talk. "I can't stand people like that woman."

"Me either." she laughed. "I hope that she did not say anything offensive. It comes with being involved with Erik."

" _You must be Monsieur Destler's wife." the woman's voice echoed in my mind._

"I told her off, anyways." I responded. "He shouldn't have to deal with such things." We reached the doors leading to the front of the opera house. Out the glass panes in the rich wood, I spotted our driver and the carriage. Turning to Madame Giry, I gave a polite curtsy. "Thank you so much for escorting us."

"It was my pleasure." She nodded back. "Have a good evening."

Taking Gustave's hand, I led us outside and to the carriage, happy to be headed home. As we pulled away from the opera house, I couldn't help but feel a little upset that Monsieur Destler was not with us.


End file.
